


Le Tango de Castiel

by regardinglove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Arranged Marriage, Community: deancasbigbang, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2016, Drama, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Moulin Rouge References, Non-Explicit Sex, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Secret Relationship, moulin rouge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 89,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8310604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regardinglove/pseuds/regardinglove
Summary: When Dean returns to Lawrence with a bad audition under his belt and crushed confidence to boot, he agrees to work with Sam on his production of Moulin Rouge for a theatre competition in hopes of starting fresh. But when Sam casts the role of Satine with Castiel Novak, Dean's life changes forever.Before he realizes it, Dean finds himself thrown into a world that looks suspiciously like the original canon they're portraying on stage, and is caught in an array of arranged marriages, blackmail, affairs, and the most unexpected thing of all: love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you become friends with me, chances are that I will make you watch Moulin Rouge (or badger you until you experience it). It's easily my favorite film, one that I truly cherish and love. That is why when I was considering what I would do for DCBB this year, Moulin Rouge AU immediately came to mind, but I didn't want to do a "cookie cutter" retelling of this movie. Instead, I put a few modern day twists on the plot, changed a few things and bam! We had a fic that I am incredibly proud to present. 
> 
> I wouldn't have completed this fic without a lot of help, though. First off, I'd like to thank lennyways for her awesome beta work. Thanks for catching all the typos, giving me nice comments to read, and being generally fab. 
> 
> Thanks are also in order for somuchcolour, my artist. Your art is truly beautiful. When I found out that you claimed my fic, I literally fangirled for a thousand years because you are one of my favorite SPN artists. Thank you for gifting me with incredible art for this fic (which will be linked later on!) and being fantastic to work with. 
> 
> But the true cheerleader and person I want to thank until the end of time is the amazing and fantastic Michelle (aka deanghostchester). Michelle, without your constant cheering me on, this fic would not be posting today. You were there when I was in a writer's block, always encouraging me that the words would come. You were there when I was panicking over plot choices and second guessing myself, telling me that there is nothing to worry about. You were there to celebrate with me when I got claimed, there to rein in my overdramatic writing, there to bounce ideas off of when I was in a rut. You were always there, and for that I cannot thank you enough. You are truly a fantastic alpha reader and fabulous friend, and I am so glad to know you. 
> 
> And thank **you** for reading this in the first place! I really hope that you enjoy it. 
> 
> (A few notes. All the songs are linked to Youtube videos if you're not familiar with Moulin Rouge. You can still read this story without ever seeing the movie, but if you want a full experience I would listen to the songs as they come up. Art is in chapter 1 and 14. Also, the "rape/non-con elements" tag refers to a non-con kiss between Cas and Crowley in chapter 3. There is nothing close to full out rape in this fic, if that is a possible trigger for you.) 
> 
> I think that's all! Thanks for reading!

                           

 

Time, Dean always thought, was an illusion.

It was something that he could never wrap his head around, and frankly, never tried to. He was a go with the flow type of person, y’know, the one who would look time in the face and say ‘screw it’ on a daily basis. Any day could be your last. Why focus on the one thing you can’t control? Time truly meant nothing to him, was just a marker to pass the days, until he met Castiel Novak and time was everything.

Time was what hounded after them, day after day as they hid around corners and stole kisses between rehearsals. Time was what prodded them as they fought against the clock, trying to make the most of every moment they had together before they would be forced apart by the circumstances.

Time was what Dean wished Cas had more of as he looked down at his lover’s body, blood slowly trickling from his torso as his eyes wheeled around the room. Time was what they were racing against as everything began to move in slow motion. Time was what Dean was desperate for as Cas croaked out his name and tried to grab his hand, but his grip was too weak to hold on. Time was what he was despising when it took too long for someone to call an ambulance.

Time was what he wished he could control when Cas’s eyes slid close and it looked like his breathing was slowing down to an alarmingly laggish rate. If only he could turn back time, he thought, he’d relive the past eight months and rewrite the story. He’d never convince Cas to run, he’d never join his brother’s production of _Moulin Rouge!_ , and maybe, just maybe, he’d knock that flyer out of Sam’s hands and keep him from entering this damned theatre competition all together.

He felt tears well in his eyes as the crowd began clamoring around them. How did they end up here? Where did it all go wrong?

When the sound of sirens echoed in the distance, Dean grasped Cas’s hand, closed his eyes, and recalled where it all began.


	2. Chapter 2

The Commons was busy, just like any other day. Students milled about between classes, soaking up the last warm rays of summer that were filtering in from between the towering oak branches above them, wind causing papers to flit in the breeze. Frat boys stood on the concrete sidewalk, passing out flyers for one of their lavish parties while flirting with the pretty girls that walked by, and the smell of the cafeteria’s famous burgers wafted across the Quad, enticing hundreds of students with the promise of good, homestyle Kansas cooking that Lawrence University offered. 

Normally, this would’ve been considered the perfect day in Sam’s eyes, but that day all he could do was look on in annoyance while he tapped his fingers impatiently against the metal bench he was perched on, trying to block out the din. He couldn’t even appreciate the grass between his toes or the sun on his neck because of the buzzing laptop balancing on one knee, a constant reminder that he was out here to find scholarships for grad school, not to enjoy the beautiful day. 

But it was just so _frustrating;_ he’d been researching for hours on end, scrolling through page after page of opportunities and coming up with nothing that fit. Sam was either too old, or not in the right major, or made just enough money to be considered “financially stable” by the government. The only one he qualified for was a grant from some rich guy in Texas, and that was only if he managed to prove the existence of the Loch Ness Monster. When the fifteenth page of Google popped up with nothing new, Sam eyes were thoroughly off the screen and wandered around the Commons instead.

“Hey! Winchester! What gives? Weren’t you supposed to be looking for scholarships?” a familiar voice rang out from behind him. 

Sam felt his cheeks flush as he turned back to his laptop. He perched his fingers on the keys as Jess tramped across the Quad, gold curls blowing in the breeze as she swung her backpack over her arm. “And weren’t you supposed to be in lab?” he countered back as Jess slid in next to him, leaning over to peck a kiss on his lips. 

“Technically yes, but I’d much rather be spending time with my boyfriend. Besides,” she paused, pulling out a bag from behind her, “I brought Red Vines! Your favorite!” 

He grinned widely as Jess revealed the snack, shoving the package over to him before resting her elbows on her knees. “I thought you’d want a little break from scholarship searching…but I see that’s been thoroughly avoided,” she teased as she poked his laptop with her finger. 

Sam opened the package and twirled a vine between his fingers, then laid it down in his lap. “I don’t know where to look anymore, Jess. I’ve tried everything, and I can’t afford grad school without a scholarship. There’s no way I could ever repay a student loan when my future is probably going to be grabbing coffee as a PA for years on end. Maybe I should just give it up…” 

Jess’s hand came down and slammed his laptop closed. He flicked his eyes up to her fiery gaze, her denim blue irises pushing through the layer of blonde curls in front of them. 

“You don’t talk like that, not when I’m around,” she warned, flipping her hair out of her face. “And I think I might have a lead.” 

Sam perked up next to her. “Really? Because I’ve checked everything, Jess, and I-“

“I know, I know. You’re just one in thousands who are looking for a scholarship with no luck. But those other thousands are not dating me,” Jess said slyly, eyes filled with a mischief he knew well. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and tossed him a folded up sheet of paper. “Behold, the answer to your grad school prayers.” 

Sam laid his laptop on the ground and opened up the paper. It was a bright pink advertisement that read: 

_Are you an aspiring director looking for money? Then enter the Lawrence Theatre Festival! Put together a creative remake of a famous film [e.g. Titanic, 12 Years a Slave] and submit it to the festival. Winner gets a full ride scholarship to the college of their choice._

_Rules and regulations apply. Contact the festival directors, Ed and Harry, if you wish to enter._

_Phone: 224-567-8293_

_Email: ghostfacers@gmail.com_

Sam clenched the paper in his hands as he looked back up at Jess. She was practically glowing, blue eyes bright and beautiful in the sunlight as she curled her lip up into a quirky grin. Her enthusiasm was unhinged, but Sam wasn’t as excited as his mind filled with paper deadlines and grad school applications. “You think I can put together an award winning production? You’re not serious, are you?” 

Jess hunched down next to him and grabbed the flyer back. “Of course I’m being serious!” she exclaimed, loud enough to get a few glares in their direction. She quieted down as she leaned in closer to him and replied, “Look, you need the money and this feels like the only way you’re gonna get it.” She paused, her eyes flitting back and forth as she thought. “You said that you’ve got an easy senior year, right? Perfect opportunity! You’ve got a production major girlfriend who is best friends with one of the greatest actors on campus. You’ve got lines of professors who would back you up in this, and all of your friends are involved in the theatre department. All you need are actors, which I can easily provide, and you’re golden!” She knocked her arm against his. “C’mon, at least give it a try? There’s no rule that you can’t drop out if it interferes with your life.”

He let his fingers trail over the pink paper, hoping it could ground him and give him time to think. Sure, it was a full ride to college, but how was he going to juggle directing while also keeping up with his other classes? Professor Mills was already on his ass for turning in a paper late, and they were only three weeks into the semester. If a paper was already an issue, how the hell was he going to put together a production worthy of a full scholarship? 

And yet…Sam couldn’t help but plan it out in his head. He’d always wanted to do a creative retelling of _Moulin Rouge!,_ his favorite film, and this was the perfect time to do it. He could imagine it perfectly. The stage would be set in modern New York with lots of grungy sets and sultry lighting. Christian, the struggling playwright, would find a group of performers at a rundown bar and collaborate with them. They would tell him of a secret club called the Moulin Rouge, and would convince him to act as a famous Hollywood director to gain the attention of the infamous Satine, a lively and well sought after exotic dancer. She…no… _he_ would help Christian get his play on Broadway, and through it all the two would fall in love under the gritty street lamps and cloudy smog of New York’s underground scene. However, just like the movie, they’d be dodging the wealthy and jealous boyfriend…no… _girlfriend_ of Satine, who was power hungry and only using the exotic dancer for her own advancement. When she found out about Satine’s true love with Christian, she’d threaten to end the boy lest Satine leave him first. And of course, the ending would be the same, with Satine gone and Christian broken over what he lost. 

Sam loved the idea as his mind filled with images and potential sets, song lyrics and heartbreaking lines. The names of friends who could work crew came up next, and then he realized that with enough prodding and poking, he was positive that he could get Dean on board to play Christian. He’d just need to find a Satine, and a stage crew…and a script…and a place to hold auditions, oh, and also time to work it all out in the eight month period allowed. 

He fished his phone out of his pocket and began dialing the number on the flyer before he chickened out. 

“ _Hello?_ ” a garbled voice rang out from the other line.

“Hi there, are you the director?” Sam said, glancing at Jess while he talked. “Look, my name is Sam Winchester and I’m interested in entering the theatre competition…” 


	3. Chapter 3

“What do you think of this color scheme, darling? Blue and black, or white and gold?” 

Cas begrudgingly looked up from his book to glance quickly at the papers Crowley was holding out. They both looked terrible, but he knew better than to question his fiancé's choices by now. “Are you referring to that disgusting dress the world is fascinated with or are you talking about our wedding invitation colors?” 

Crowley sighed as he threw down the chips on the counter, walking around to take a seat at Cas’s side at their breakfast bar. The scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey was strong on him today, and Cas wrinkled his nose when the man came close. “Of course I’m talking about our invitations, Castiel. I would never talk about that ghastly dress. But we do need to get those invitations out there. My mother is asking constantly about when we’re going to tie the knot, and she’s pushing for sooner rather than later.” 

Cas shivered when he was forced to once again remember that within the year, he would be chained to Fergus Crowley for life. He’d been trying to put the arranged marriage off for a couple of years now, using college and auditions as an excuse to placate Crowley’s mother, but she was not a patient woman and profits were plummeting. In order for their businesses to survive, the Novak and Crowley corporations would need to merge, and in more way than one. At least, that’s what Rowena and his father had been telling him ever since he was fifteen. 

“How about June? Would that work for you?” Crowley asked, throwing those incredibly fake puppy dog eyes and a saccharine smile in Cas’s direction.

“Too soon,” Cas replied offhandedly _._ He pretended to peruse the pepper shaker on the counter when he answered,“December of next year, at the earliest.” 

Crowley stiffened next to him, and Cas wondered if he took it too far. His eyes fell on Cas and his lips curled into an annoyed grimace. “If I tell my mother that, she will have my head. You can’t put this off forever, Castiel. We’re destined for one another. Two peas in a pod, if you will. You aren’t reconsidering our orders, are you?” 

Cas ignored the tiny shiver that rang through his body at the word ‘destined,’ and got up from the stool to pace the grand but cold kitchen. “Of course not,” he replied, leaving out the unsaid _‘No one reconsiders with your mother.’_

“And why not? Don’t you love me, Castiel?” Crowley questioned, but Cas knew it was only to dangle his power in front of his face. The words had a mocking tone to them, unsettling against his ears.

He curled his fingers into his palm, clawing his nails into the flesh there. He knew what he was supposed to say every time Crowley asked, but no matter how many times Cas lied, it didn’t make it any easier. 

“Of course,” Cas whispered through clenched teeth. 

“Of course…what?” Crowley asked with a disgustingly overdone grin, fingers tapping against the bartop. 

“Of course I love you,” he lied again, despising the false tone in his voice. “Our arrangement is for the best.” 

“Good boy,” Crowley cooed, like a man throwing a bone to his well behaving dog. “That’s why you’re going to be a good partner, Castiel. You’re obedient to a fault and know when to shut up. I admire that.” And then, because the world really did despise Cas, Crowley leaned forward and captured his lips in a wet kiss until he was sated. All the while, Cas remained a frozen frame, letting Crowley do whatever he pleased. He was disgusted with Crowley and the business deal they were forced into, disgusted with everything that his father tossed away to get them to where they were, disgusted that he was being handed off to Crowley like a mail order bride…but he was also completely disgusted with himself for letting it happen like it was nothing. 

Luckily, five knocks rang out on the door to their apartment then, breaking Crowley’s kiss and Cas’s bout of self loathing. 

“I’ll get it,” Cas said as he pushed up from the barstool and past Crowley, beelining for the door and out of his grip. 

When he opened it, Jess was standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face. He practically sighed in relief when he found his best friend there, and didn’t hesitate to gesture for her to walk in. 

“Jess? What are you doing here?” Cas whispered under his breath as he guided her towards the living room, purposefully avoiding Crowley in the kitchen. 

“Can’t I just come by to say hi to my best friend?” she questioned as she slid into a plump armchair, throwing her bag down at her feet. Her fingers curled into the cashmere fabric as she leaned backwards, glaring up at Cas from under her eyelashes. “Y’know, since you won’t call me otherwise.” 

Cas cringed noticeably, avoiding that probing gaze that Jess was throwing at him. He thought he’d been clever in coming up with excuses; one time he’d be too busy working on a thesis paper, and the next he’d be rehearsing with Donna on that dialogue they needed to perform in one of their classes. And Jess always took it with grace, saying that they’d just go out another time and that it wasn’t a big deal. 

But he always knew that one day she’d start asking questions. Why was he being so distant? What changed? He wished he could tell her the truth, that he was avoiding his best friend to keep her away from Crowley, that his fiancé was like a prowling tiger these days, crouching around corners, waiting for any opportunity to assert his power over Cas or anyone near him. He couldn’t risk Jess being around when talks of the wedding became talks about business, knowing that if she even got the slightest hint of what went on behind their emerald apartment door, Crowley wouldn’t spare her for an instant. 

Of course Cas couldn’t tell her any of this and just smiled instead, lacing his fingers together as her eyes travelled over his face, trying to find a kink in his perfectly placed facade. He let out a breath when she finally looked away, her eyes focusing on the window instead. 

“I know you’re busy…but I miss you, Cas. We used to be tied at the hip and now I’m lucky if I see you once a week. I don’t know what changed…”

“Nothing’s changed,” Cas interrupted, a bit coldly. “You’re not my entire world, you know.” 

When Jess remained quiet, Cas brought his arm and draped it across her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m just under a lot of stress right now and I’m taking it out on my friends. Jess, you know you’re my favorite person, right?” 

Jess smiled under his touch and then leaned into his embrace. “Of course I’m aware of that,” she whispered. “Well, besides Crowley, of course. Nobody can beat your fiancé, can they?” 

Cas tried to keep a neutral face when he answered her, but even he knew it wasn’t convincing. Jess eyed him warily before he responded. “Okay, then _second_ favorite person in the world,” he lied, then offered a hand to pull Jess up again. “Speaking of which, he’ll probably be wondering where I went if I don’t get back into the kitchen. We were discussing wedding plans,” Cas trailed off as he wandered back into the hallway, a fake grin on his face. 

“Ooh, exciting!” Jess beamed as they began walking to the door. “I won’t keep you two then, but I do have a favor to ask before I leave…” 

Cas crossed his arms as he turned to looked at her. “You do? This isn’t going to be like your last favor, is it?” 

Jess laughed and tucked a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear. “No, nothing like the last time. I promised I’d never make you be the ‘dog watcher’ on set again and I meant it.” 

“Good,” Cas replied, “because I still have the scar from where that Pomeranian bit me,” he muttered under his breath, absentmindedly rubbing the raised mark on his forearm. 

“You’re still bitter about that? It was freshman year and that dog barely got its teeth into you. Can’t you let it go?” When he didn’t respond, Jess just sighed and pulled out a piece of pink paper from her pocket, then handed it to Cas. 

He took it and opened the page, his eyes scanning the ad. A theatre student wanted to do a “creative retelling” of _Moulin Rouge!_ and auditions were next week. He didn’t know why Jess was asking the favor…until his eyes read the contact information at the bottom. 

“You want me to audition for your boyfriend’s production?” Cas asked, his eyebrows scrunching up together. “Why?” 

Jess slapped him on the arm. “Don’t act like you don’t know! Because you’re the best actor in the entire college and I think you’d be great in this role! It also counts for extra credit in Professor Mills’ class,” Jess teased as she grabbed the paper back from Cas. “Besides, I think you’d make a great Satine.” 

“You know Satine is played by a woman, right?” Cas asked as he took a step backwards, dragging Jess with him. 

“Not in this production. That’s the _creative retelling_ part,” Jess emphasized, her bright grin gleaming. “Sam wants to have Christian and Satine be both played by men, thus bringing in an LGBTQ element to it. I think it could really work if we have the right actors…” she trailed off. 

Cas sighed and leaned back on his heels, pondering her request. It was his last year of college, and it would mean that he would be away from Crowley for long hours, after all. What could go wrong? “Okay, fine. I’ll audition for the role of Satine if you want me to-“

“Oh, thank you, Cas!” Jess interrupted loudly. She beamed up at him and plucked her phone out of her pocket, fingers flying over the keyboard. “This means a lot to both Sam and me! You’ll get the part, for sure. Sam will love you and I’m sure you’ll have great chemistry with our Christian, too.” 

“And who is that?” Cas asked in a monotone voice. He ran through the list of potential actors Jess and Sam were friends with in his head and didn’t think of one person whom he could have any sort of chemistry with. 

“Well, that’s the fun part. Sam convinced his brother to play the part of Christian in the play! Isn’t that great?” 

Cas froze in place. _No. No way._ There was no way Cas could play opposite Dean Winchester, the gorgeous man who took over his affections freshman year. He knew Dean would be trouble when they worked on Lawrence University’s production of _Phantom of the Opera_ together. Dean managed to turn the role of the Phantom into a hauntingly tragic character, bringing the audience to their knees with his lavish voice and impeccable acting skills. He was amazing, and along with his endearing snark, humility, and constant praising of the other cast members, Cas found himself crushing hard by the end of the production. 

He knew Dean was always a distant pipe dream though, a man whom he could never even flirt with because Crowley was always there, eyeing him like a hawk for both of their parents’ sake. If Cas even blinked in Dean’s direction, Crowley went overboard. He would rant and rave about the “big plan” if he was feeling generous that day, or would knock Cas around if he wasn’t. He caught on quickly that even flirting wouldn’t be allowed under Crowley’s reign, and Cas didn’t even bother to fight it after a while. Hiding the bruises wasn’t worth the effort. If Dean was playing Christian, the very active love interest of Satine, he didn’t know how he’d be able to convince Crowley to let him take the part. If even looking at Dean got him a broken nose back then, how could he get around playing a love interest? He couldn’t. 

And yet…there was nothing more that he wanted.

“Cas, are you okay?” Jess asked as she pushed her palm up to his forehead. “No fever, but you’re pale and chewing your lip. You’re not…nervous about this, are you? Because you’re great! We’ve only got Bartholomew and Benny reading for Satine besides you, and Bartholomew isn’t that good anyway. Benny is your only competition, and between you and me, you’re gonna blow him out of the park. Please don’t back out now-“

“Jess!” Cas interrupted. “I’m not backing out. I just need one promise from you before I agree.” 

Jess nodded and gestured for Cas to continue. 

He looked around for Crowley before he grabbed Jess’s wrist and walked her down the hall into his bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him and turning back. 

“Cas…”

“Crowley can’t know about this,” he said under his breath. “He’s…not supportive of my theatre work already, and if he knew I was playing the love interest of another man he may get a tad…uncomfortable.” 

Jess’s eyes widened with suspicion, and he watched as she fell back on her heels and bit her lip. “O-kay, I won’t tell him I guess, but that’s a little weird. I mean, when I’m around you guys it’s all puppies and rainbows. He can’t be doubting your engagement, right?” 

Cas’s eyes wandered to the floor before he responded. He didn’t trust Jess to not see the lie in his eyes. “No, it’s not that. I guess you could say he’s a bit jealous.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” Jess laughed, but there was no humor behind it. She came forward to take Cas’s face between her palms. “Honey, Crowley has nothing to worry about. You two are in love, and you’re not a cheater. But if you feel better keeping it a secret, I guess I won’t tell him anything.” 

He couldn’t keep back the sigh of relief that left him. “Thank you, Jess. It’s just easier this way, that’s all.” 

Jess dropped her hands and walked towards the door, gesturing for Cas to follow. “You’ll have to tell him eventually though, right?” Jess asked as they left the room and began trekking back towards the kitchen. “He’s going to find out otherwise, in one way or another. Lawrence is not a big town, after all.”

“I just need to butter him up first,” Cas said. 

“Butter who up?” 

They both halted as Crowley walked around the corner, the same white and gold paint chips from before in his hands. He eyed them up and down, clearly looking for an excuse to linger on Jess’s tight t-shirt, and Cas instinctively pushed her behind him. 

“Uh…Sam!” Jess responded immediately. Cas glared over at her, because Crowley was the king of lies and would see through her ruse immediately, but she just continued on. “Cas needs to butter him up to the idea of me going out of town for a week. I kinda already promised that I’d be around for fall break this year, but my friends invited me on a trip to Chicago instead.” 

His eyes flew to Crowley’s face, looking for any hint that he bought Jess’s story, and he only unclenched his jaw once his fiancé smiled back at her. 

“Of course you need to go with your friends. I’m sure Cas will do a brilliant job convincing Sam of the idea.” 

Jess smiled woodenly and then pushed past Cas. “You’re right. Once Cas talks to him he’ll be fine. But look at the time!” she said loudly. “I’ve gotta head out. Sam’s got his first exam of the semester tomorrow and he’s not going to study unless I’m there. Night, guys!” 

“Bye, Jessica!” Crowley called jovially as she pulled open the front door. “Don’t be such a stranger, now!” 

Jess waved back at them and then faded from view.

“Well, it was nice to see her again,” Crowley said after a moment of quiet. He held up the paint chips again in front of Cas’s nose. “Now back to the color schemes-“

“I think the white and gold would be lovely,” Cas responded before Crowley could go on. He pushed Crowley’s palm down and forced out a smile. If he was going to have any chance of making it through this production, he needed to do a little wooing of his own. “It’s fitting for a wedding in June, isn’t it?” 

Crowley’s feral grin lit up the room as he moved towards Cas. “You mean it? We can get married in June?” 

Cas just shrugged, trying to disguise the disgust he was feeling. “Of course, I wouldn’t want anything more.” 

“Excellent,” Crowley responded. “This really is for the best, Castiel. I do hope that one day you realize that. I will go inform my mother of the news.” 

Crowley pecked a quick kiss on his lips before leaving Cas alone in the hallway, and Cas remained there for quite some time. The ridiculousness of the situation was not lost on him. Two sons of ancient businesses marrying for power? What was his life, a Game of Thrones novel? 

He didn’t get to think about it anymore before he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He fished around in the fabric before he pulled out the device, and smiled when he saw the notification from Jess. 

_Jess: Next Friday_

_The Thompson Auditorium_

_9:00 AM._

_Be there, Novak, or else I’ll never watch Alien with you again._

He laughed as he texted her back. 

_Cas: Wouldn’t miss it for the world._


	4. Chapter 4

_As Dean looked on at the stage in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. This wasn’t just another audition, it was_ the _audition, the one that would either make or break his entire acting career. His agent spent weeks trying to secure him a spot, and even then he only got in because another actor dropped out._

_“Dean Winchester?” the director called from the front row._

_“Here,” Dean responded as he walked up the steps to the stage. He blinked against the glare from the spotlights and made out the line of producers, playwrights, and directors in the crowd. Everyone was watching him, and it took him a second to realize that he was supposed to speak._

_“Oh, uh, sorry,” Dean got out. “My name is Dean Winchester and I’ll be auditioning for the role of Jean Valjean today.”_

_The director looked up from his headshot and smirked at him. “You? You’re auditioning for Jean Valjean?”_

_Dean rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Uh…yes?”_

_The director laughed as he threw down the folder he was holding. “Dean, you’re a nobody. This role only goes to real actors, and you’re not a real actor.”_

_He didn’t know what to say. He felt the familiar twist of anxiety in his gut and the buckets of sweat soon followed. He felt trapped, like he was on a boat and there was only miles of ocean water around him. The director’s laugh turned mocking as he repeated the same word over and over._

_“Failure.”_

_Dean sank to his knees as the others joined in, their taunting laughs filling up the room._

_“Failure, failure, failure!” they chanted over and over again._

_“Stop it!” Dean cried out, but it was no use. The others just chanted more and more, and he watched helplessly as the doors to the theater flew open and familiar faces filled the space. He looked around as Jess, Sam, and even his father chanted the word along with the others._

_“Failure, failure, failure.”_

_“Stop it right now!” Dean roared as he pushed up from the ground. “Stop it! Stop it!”_

“Dean…Dean! Wake up!” 

The voice pulled Dean from his anxious sleep, and he jostled up in bed with a yell. He felt his heart pounding a mile a minute in his chest, and his hands wandered over the sweat soaked linen sheets as his eyes looked around the room. He wasn’t at the audition; he wasn’t even in New York. He was in the guest bedroom of Sammy’s small apartment in Lawrence, surrounded by towering red oak bookshelves that were crammed in next to a writing desk and rolling chair. He was laying in Sam’s tiny twin bed that was hardly big enough to fit him and he wasn’t on the brink of running off of a stage. He drew his arms into his chest and brought his knees up, resting his head against them as he told himself to calm down. 

“You had the nightmare again, didn’t you?” Sam asked as he pulled up a rolling desk chair next to the bed. “Are you okay?” 

Dean sighed and laid back down, head knocking against the baseboard. He winced and carded his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, it happened again. I don’t know why I just can’t shake it, y’know? I bombed an audition, big whoop. I dunno why it’s haunting me like an angry ex-wife.” 

Sam leaned back in his chair and threw him a gaze filled with pity. Dean hated those looks. “It’s haunting you because it was a big part of your life. You went to your first Broadway audition and they basically shut you down right off the bat. That would shake up anyone.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean mumbled under his breath, and then pushed the sweaty linens from his body. He pulled up into a sitting position and adjusted his t-shirt before tossing his legs over the side of the mattress. “It doesn’t even matter anymore, right? They shut me down, my agent left me, and now I’ve just gotta focus on the here and now, which is the auditions today for your soon-to-be award winning production.”

Sam let out a snort as he got up from his chair. “Don’t jump to conclusions now. I’m not even done with the script yet and there’s still six months until opening night. A lot could go wrong between now and then.” 

“But it’s not going to,” Dean countered, getting up from the bed. He rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes before wandering out of the bedroom and into their lackluster kitchen, grabbing two protein bars for them both as he walked by the pantry. He threw one to Sam who caught it expertly, then ripped open the packaging on his own. “It’s gonna go off without a hitch because I say it will. Nobody’s gonna mess up your big break. Not on my watch.” 

“You can’t promise that,” Sam said as he took a bite out of the bar. “You’re only one person,” he muttered around the food. 

“Sammy, how many times do I need to tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. We ain’t animals in a damn barn.” 

He ignored the bitch face that his brother threw at him and grabbed the stack of headshots on the table, grinning as he flipped through a sea of familiar faces. Benny, who was only a carpenter when he was a senior, was now one of the common leads in Lawrence productions. Anna had quite a few roles since he met her, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he came across Meg’s picture in the pile. However, one picture was foreign to him among the rest, and he paused when a set of cerulean blue eyes peered at him from the page. 

“Who’s this Cas…teal?” Dean tried sounding out, but still managed to flub his lips over the name. 

“That’s Castiel,” Sam corrected him as he took the headshot out of Dean’s hands, “and you’re getting your sticky fingers all over my paperwork.” 

“But is he new?” Dean asked as he padded after Sam out of the kitchen and into the living room. “I don’t think I remember him from my days at Lawrence.” 

Sam stopped and turned around. “You really don’t remember him?” he asked with incredulous eyes. 

“Should I?” Dean responded. 

Sam just stared at him like he had five heads. “Dude, when you were playing the Phantom, he was the guy who was in charge of your cape? Remember?” 

Dean pushed his lips into a line. Now that he thought about it, yeah. Dean remembered the man who worked backstage during Phantom, but he wasn’t the guy in the photo. He was a tiny dude who barely looked old enough to be in college, and he was always weirdly squinting at him…a lot like the guy in the picture was…

“No way,” Dean whispered as he grabbed the photo back. “That is the guy from backstage crew?” 

His brother laughed and flipped the page over. “Yeah Dean, it’s on his resume. Look: two years working backstage for Lawrence University, plus two years of stage experience. The guy is an amazing actor…maybe even better than you,” Sam said with a teasing glint in his eye. 

Dean pretended to look offended and brought a hand to his chest. “How dare you! I’m the best actor _ever._ It’s why I’m not on Broadway right now being best friends with Neil Patrick Harris; he’s clearly below me,” he said in a fake, pompous voice that got another bitch face from Sam. 

“I don’t have time for your bad impressions,” Sam groaned as he grabbed the headshot back from Dean and threw it on the pile. “We’ve got to get going and you reek of day old sweat. Can’t begin without our lead, after all. Take a shower and meet me outside in fifteen.”

“Whoa there, Sammy, who made you the boss of me?” Dean complained as he threw off his t-shirt. 

Sam just shook his head and walked towards the door. “I did, when I casted you in my future award winning production,” Sam replied. “But really though, be hurry up or I’m stealing the Impala and leaving without you.” 

“Bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath. 

“Jerk!” 

He just laughed. It was going to be a long day.


	5. Chapter 5

When Cas arrived in front of the Thompson Center at 9:00 AM sharp, he expected to feel a wave of familiarity. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. He pushed through the glass doors to the auditorium and everything looked exactly as he left it last year. The walls weren’t any cleaner, still covered in 70s wood paneling that the college refused to update, and the carpet emitted the scent of musk and rot from the great flood of 1980. Rusty colored marks from a production gone wrong were glaring at him from center stage, and the old spotlights flickered and popped above his head as Garth tried to get them working in the tech booth.

And yet, something was off. At first Cas couldn’t put his finger on it, but then he glanced around at waves of unfamiliar faces before him. Where did all these newbies come from? Usually auditions were tiny affairs, a process that involved the small but dedicated theatre department. He had never been in a show that had more than twenty actors, but this time Thompson Center was filled to the brim with hopefuls, each person holding their audition papers in hand. Students lined the walls as they eagerly filled out forms, whispering to one another what part they wanted. He couldn’t help but feel a bit irked when he didn’t recognize half of the faces in the room, but that ebbed when Jess came running towards him with two clipboards in hand, a frazzled look on her wide-eyed face.

“Cas! There you are!” she called and grabbed his arm. “Come with me.”

Jess led him through the throngs of actors and brought him up to the front row of garrish indigo seats. He felt more at home once he found the familiar faces of his theatre friends, all working quietly while the newbies called to each other crassly from around the auditorium. Benny and Gabriel were huddled over a phone as they practiced the harmony to ‘The Show Must Go On,’ while Anna and Jo were running lines with one another a few rows back, feet propped up on a metal bar alongside the right flank of the room’s exit ramps.

“Everyone who is a seasoned actor is auditioning later. Newbies go first,” Jess explained as she plopped down in a seat. “And do we’ve got a lot of newbies.”

“Why?” Cas asked as he too plopped down into one of the chairs.

Jess turned around and brought her face close to Cas’s ear. “Word got out that Dean is playing the lead and now everyone is trying to vie for the role of Satine. I mean, look at them,” Jess muttered as she threw a glance at the crowd. “They’re all whispering about off set romances and the like, which makes me doubt that they’re actually here for the play. My guess is that most of them just want the chance to live out their _Moulin Rouge_ fantasies.”

Cas snickered as he eyed a throng of girls who were trying to get a peek backstage. “Please, do people actually believe that romances like Christian and Satine’s happen in real life? Unbelievable.”

Jess slapped him upside the head with her clipboard and glared at him. “Hey now, don’t be like that! Just because you and I have found love doesn’t mean everyone else has. Let them have their fantasies; it isn't gonna hurt anyone.”

Cas rolled his eyes and turned back to the front of the auditorium. “I beg to differ,” he muttered under his breath, but Jess didn’t get to respond before Sam peeked his head out from behind the ragged curtains, whistling loudly to catch the attention of everyone in the room.

“Uh…hi,” Sam called out as he trudged to the front of the stage. It threw Cas off a bit; Sam was dressed in the traditional black of a back stage crew with a headset on instead of his usual lumberjack plaid and jeans. “My name is Sam Winchester and I’m the director of this show. If you look to the front row you’ll find our producer, Jessica Moore.”

Jess waved to the group and then grabbed one of the clipboards from the seat next to her. Cas glanced over her chair and blanched at the stack of headshots in her hands. There had to be at least a hundred in the pile and it looked like even more were coming her way. He groaned to himself and leaned back in his chair, preparing for the incredulously long day ahead of him.

“She’ll be handling all of your audition forms, so send them her way,” Sam said once everyone got a look at Jess. “We’re having our new recruits audition first, and please tell Jess if you have any conflicts on the form. The schedule is going to be rigorous and long term, so we can’t take you on if you have a lot of other commitments. Any questions?”

Hands with perfectly painted nails went up immediately and Sam gestured to a blonde woman in the front.

“Where’s Dean?” she asked coyly.

Sam laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s getting our callback songs ready for tonight.”

He pointed to the next person in line, a woman with long, flowing brunette hair and stunning amber eyes. If this was a traditional telling of _Moulin Rouge!,_ he was certain that she’d get the part of Satine for her looks alone.

“Will he be watching us audition?” she asked as she absentmindedly ran a hand over her hair.

“No?” Sam replied like a question, and then leaned back on his heels. “He won’t be in the room until the callbacks tonight.”

“Is it true that Dean is gay?” another woman yelled out, and that’s when Sam’s face shifted into one of annoyance.

“Are there any questions that are not regarding my brother?”

The hands fell quickly after that, and Sam clapped his palms together.

“Great; then let’s begin.”

The four hours that followed were absolutely cringeworthy, and Cas couldn’t get out of that auditorium fast enough when lunch was called around one. They managed to get through fifty people in that time frame, and most of them proved to be mediocre in their performances. If anyone in the next round even dared to sing another version of ‘On My Own,’ or audition without moving from their spot on stage, Cas was sure that he’d walk right out of the doors and not come back until he was needed.

“Is anyone else completely done with hearing ten thousand renditions of ‘Popular?’ Benny commented as he plopped down at the table where Cas, Anna, and Gabriel were seated.

Cas poked at a piece of salad with a fork and glanced up at him. “I’m more concerned that every girl trying out is going to sing a song from _Les Mis._ You’re trying out for the part of Satine and you don’t even sing ‘One Day I’ll Fly Away’?”

“Ugh, have you listened to those performances? I don’t want any of them touching any Satine song…ever,” Anna chimed in from across the table, then gestured for everyone to lean in. “How heartbroken are they going to be when they find out that Sam is casting a man as Satine?”

“Twenty bucks that one of them cries,” Gabriel whispered with a mischievous grin, then went into his pocket, pulled out a ten and threw it on the table. “Anyone else care to wager? I’m always game for a little gambling.”

“I bet that Emma gets into callbacks tonight,” Anna said as she contributed ten bucks to the pool. “She’s the only one who I can see playing the Duke…or I guess she’ll be the Duchess, right?”

“And I go against your bet and say that she ain’t gettin’ called back. Girl wasn’t that great,” Benny said as he too threw a ten onto the table.

The three of them went back and forth for at least five minutes while Cas watched with an amused expression. This always happened during audition days, and he tried to remember what bet started it all. He was giggling at old memories when Anna yanked him back into the present with her wager.

“I bet that Dean falls in love with someone in the cast,” Anna perused, eyebrows raised in chargin. “Anyone care to wager against me?”

“I’ll take that bet,” Benny replied as he threw in the last of his cash. “I’ve known Dean for years now and he’s the love ‘em once and leave ‘em type. He ain’t fallin’ in love with anybody.”

“What about you, Cas?” Anna asked with a wolfish grin. “Care to get into the pool?”

He looked at the pile of cash on the table and then fished in his wallet for a bill. “I’ll go with Anna on this one; I bet that Dean will fall in love with someone by the end of the play…but it won’t be one of those girls who are new. It’s going to be with someone he already knows, I can feel it.”

Everyone at the table just quirked their eyebrows at him.

“…What?” he asked as he threw down the twenty on the table.

“Thought you were over that crush,” Gabriel muttered as he leaned forward again. He brought up his fork and pointed it at Cas’s face. “You’re still itching to get in his pants after all these years, aren’t you?”

“I do not-I don’t,” Cas stammered, loud enough to get a few stares from the neighboring tables. He eyed the onlookers and lowered his voice before he responded, “I’m an engaged man, Gabriel.”

“Doesn’t mean you are _happily_ engaged, compadre,” he whispered under his breath, eyes filled with questions. “You know rumors fly about you two, right?”

Cas felt his face turn white at the words. Rumors? What rumors could possibly be going around about him and Crowley? They were impeccable at keeping the terms behind their forged relationship a secret from anyone outside of the family businesses, and he felt that in public, they always put up a good front to others. He could only recall one time when their perfectly placed facade slipped. It was after a big fight between them and Cas came into rehearsal with a black eye and several scratches to the face. He claimed that it was from a car accident, and everyone seemed to believe him at the time. Was that enough to start rumors about his relationship?

“There’s nothing going on with us,” Cas defended as he pushed out of his chair, tray in hand, “and if you think otherwise then it is probably best that I leave now.”

“Oh c’mon, Cas! I didn’t mean anything by it!” Gabriel called as Cas went to throw out his mostly untouched lunch.

He turned back around and threw his arms in the air. “What rumors are going around about us?”

The entire table turned silent and looked in different directions. It wasn’t until Cas stomped back to his chair that Anna sighed and finally turned towards Cas, plopping her elbows up on the table.

“Okay, I’m gonna be honest with you. People in our circle are saying that you and Crowley are separated because we never see you guys together anymore. Like, you and Crowl used to be attached all throughout your first few years, but you two haven’t been in the same room all semester it seems. What gives with that?”

Cas felt his whole body relax. Nobody was suspicious of the real issues in their relationship. Nobody questioned his tale about a car accident. Nobody knew anything.

“That’s it?” Cas replied with a little laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned to his right side, trying to look as calm as possible. “Crowley has just been busy with his new internship downtown and I’ve been preparing for the auditions today. Nothing is wrong.”

Benny and Anna threw him assuring grins, but Gabriel just eyed him like a hawk. “Okay bro, I’ll take that for now, but I still think that you’ve got Winchester fever,” Gabe said as he pushed his tray towards the middle of the table. “You better be careful, Cassy; I don’t want to be a part of a production with behind the scene romance drama again. I had enough of that crap with Meg’s love triangle last year.”

Cas groaned and then grabbed his bag from the floor. “Do you want an oath? I, Castiel Novak, promise to not get into a love triangle with Dean Winchester,” he recited. “You good?”

Gabriel squinted his eyes at him, but didn’t comment on it any further.

“I’m going back to the auditorium,” Cas said as he began walking backwards. “I’ll see you all in there.”

And with that, Cas turned and waltzed out of the room, leaving his nosy and speculating friends behind.

 

* * *

 

The afternoon auditions went immensely better than the ones in the morning, and not just because experienced actors were the ones trying out. People were more comfortable than before, newbies conversing with veterans like they were old friends. The two clear groups from the morning auditions merged into one, and as Cas looked around the auditorium, he finally felt like this was a real show.

However, being caught up in the hubbub and camaraderie distracted him from the fact that he also had to audition before callbacks, and he was caught up in a conversation with Gabriel when his named was called.

“Cas? It’s your turn,” Sam yelled from the front.

It became clear quite quickly that all eyes in the room were on him. The newbies glanced up with a curious gaze in their eyes while the veterans gazed at him knowingly, waiting for his familiar tenor to fill the room. He was used to all the attention, he had performed in front of thousands before after all, but this time was different. He knew it would most likely be his last audition, and all of his friends were either seniors like him or only came back to help out Sam and Jess. They were all leaving, and next year a whole new group of students would take over the Lawrence stage with their own dreams and aspirations while he was holed up in an English mansion with Crowley. It didn’t hit him until the sound of his feet hitting the linoleum stairs rang through the silent auditorium.

“…Cas?” Jess’s voice echoed through the room when he halted on the steps. “Is everything alright?”

Cas blinked owlishly before shaking it off and walking to the front of the wooden stage. “Sorry,” he apologized as he looked out into the crowd. “I’m just…nostalgic I guess.”

Light laughter chimed from the audience as he adjusted the lapels of his coat.

“What are you going to sing today, Cas?” Sam said as he looked down at his headshot, pen wedged between his fingers.

“‘One Day I’ll Fly Away’,” Cas responded immediately, and he ignored the hushed whispers from the newbies about his choice. The lights dimmed around him as Sam gave him the head nod to begin, and then Cas was singing like he had never done before.

 _‘I’ll follow the night…,’_ Cas began slowly, his eyes making contact with every face in the audience, ‘ _…can’t stand the night. When will I begin…to live…again.’_

As the instruments on the track rose, Cas felt himself falling into the familiar territory of a character. He practically wore out his DVD of _Moulin Rouge!;_ getting into the world of the burlesque dancer turned political pawn wasn’t hard, and he promptly ignored the thoughts that rose up about his own ties to Satine. Now wasn’t the time.

‘ _One day I’ll fly away,’_ Cas sang in his tenor, ‘ _leave all this to yesterday. What more could your love do for me? When will love be…through with me? Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day…when dreaming ends…’_

As the song crescendoed over the buzzing loudspeakers, Cas began to stride around the stage, feeling the violins on the track vibrating through his bones as he traversed towards the right wing.

‘ _One day I’ll fly away!’_ Cas sang as he climbed the winding, iron balcony steps, covered in pastel flowers and ivy leaves. He let go of one hand as he leaned over the edge, gesturing to the air above him. ‘ _Leave all this to yesterday. Why live life…from dream to dream?’_

The note wailed out of his mouth as he pushed with all the energy he had, then curled in on himself as the instrumentals faded into a slow tempo. ‘ _…And dread the day…when dreaming…ends.’_

‘ _One day I’ll fly away,’_ Cas whispered as he got down from the staircase and waltzed his way back to the center of the stage. ‘ _Fly, fly…away.’_

It took a few seconds, but after the music faded into the background everyone in the crowd rose in applause, a few even getting up from their seats to cheer him on. He noticed Jo practically fall off as she went to stand on one of the fold out chairs, and Benny’s loud whoops from the sidelines were overpowering. He even noticed Gabriel giving him a little nod of approval as he too clapped along with the others.

It was the best audition that Cas had ever performed.

Sam got up from his chair when Cas walked off the stage and knocked him on the shoulder as he went by.

“Hey, Cas!” he called with a wry grin. “…I’ll see you at callbacks.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean didn’t know why he was nervous. It wasn’t like he was even auditioning today; Sammy offered him the part before they even posted a call for actors weeks ago after all, and his only job was to prepare the callback numbers and learn the harmony to ‘Elephant Love Medley’. So why were his hands shaking and his gut churning? Why was he looking at the door like it was an escape route?

His mind rewound back to when he first took the role. They were sitting outside of Sam’s apartment after Dean drove in from his disastrous _Les Mis_ audition, and Sam was clearly beating around the bush with excuses and diversions. He went along with it at first, Sam always got a little antsy before his first exam of the year, but after a while Dean couldn’t hide his curiosity anymore.

“Okay, what the hell is up with you, man?” Dean interrupted Sam while he was babbling about his latest date with Jess. “You've been weird all day.”

Sam clasped his hands together and took a deep breath, gaze focused on the ground. “I want to ask you something, but I don’t think I can now. Not after…y’know.”

Dean leaned back on his palms and stared out into the bustling campus traffic. It was midday, right around the time when students were running past Sam’s apartment to get to the Caf a few blocks down. It was all too sentimental, really. It was only a few years ago that he was walking those streets with Benny and Jo, usually catching the last call for meals after sleeping in all morning or as they came back to campus after a long night out at the Roadhouse. It made Dean long for those days before he was picked up by his agency, a time when he wasn’t worrying about auditions constantly, wasn’t always wondering when Gordon would call out of the blue and inform him that he was needed in a show that night, wasn’t just another actor who didn't have the talent to make it in the major leagues.

“Don’t pity me. That’s probably the last thing I need right now. Just spit it out.”

Sam glanced down at the ground as a group of giggling girls walked by them and then pulled out a electric pink piece of paper from his pocket. Dean took it from his outstretched hand and let his eyes wander over the words, catching onto phrases like ‘auditions’ and ‘ _Moulin Rouge!’_ and ‘theatre competition.’

“I entered a competition for a grad school scholarship,” Sam explained, hands open wide in front of him. He paused for a few moments before going on. “Winner gets a full ride to the college of their choice. The goal is to put on the best remake of a famous film into a production, so I’m going to try to pull off a modern day retelling of _Moulin Rouge!_. I just kinda need a lead actor…” Sam trailed off and then brought up those damn puppy dog eyes to Dean’s gaze.

He let out a moan and got up from the cool stoop, taking the steps one by one as he walked away from his brother and his request. Really? Right after Dean got his ego crushed Sam wanted him back out in the field again? “Aw hell, you want me to play Christian?”

“Or Satine! It’s going to be two men in the main roles so you’d get a choice!” Sam exclaimed as he chased after Dean. “And I know that you’re down right now but maybe this is what you need to get back up again, y’know, remember why you love doing this in the first place?”

Dean paused outside of the apartment door and turned back on his brother. “Look, I wanna help, I really do, but…do you think I can do it?”

Sam tossed up his hands like it was obvious and stomped back down the steps. “Dean, it was one bad audition. You said it yourself that the director was a pretentious asshat, so why are you letting it get to you? You played Phantom for us and got a standing o’ every night; you got invited to be a part of the most prestigious theatre troupe in Kansas before you went to New York. People _like_ you, Dean, believe it or not, so yeah, you’re completely capable of playing a part in this play. I just need you to believe in yourself, okay?”

Dean knew that Sam was right, but it was easier said than done. Yeah, people generally liked him, and it shouldn’t piss him off that one guy from one audition didn’t, but it was hard to shake the feeling of someone calling your performance _abysmal_ and _unfit for Broadway_. If he wasn’t fit for Broadway, there was no way that he could get on a stage in front of judges and producers.

And yet…he couldn’t turn down his own brother in a time of need, not after all the work that Sam put into _Phantom’s_ tech back in the day that saved their show from falling apart.

“Okay,” Dean replied with a sigh as he patted Sam on the arm. “I’ll play the part of Christian if you really want me to-“

“Ugh, you’re the best,” Sam muttered into his collarbone after he pulled him into a hug. “I don’t know who I would’ve cast without you.”

Dean pushed him back and threw him a glinting smirk. “Benny, probably, but I don’t know how he’d react to playing the love interest of Satine.”

Sam looked back at him with a confused twinkle in his eye. “Dude…Benny’s bi. Why would he get freaked over that?”

Dean just laughed and pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. “Because he’d probably be playing opposite Gabriel, and that’s something I’d pay to see.”

His brother laughed back and then turned towards him again, beaming like the sun above them. “But you’ll play Christian?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll play Christian, even though I’ll probably suck…”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You’re one of the best out there and if that Zachariah guy couldn’t see that, then you’re better off without his dumb play anyway.”

Dean looked at the ground and kicked a lone pebble there. Just hearing Zach’s name brought a zip of fear down his spine and he bit his lip to hide the unease running through him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right…jerk,” Sam whispered with upturned lips.

“Bitch. Now let’s get back inside. I’m sweatin’ my ass off out here.”

That was what…a month ago? Dean truly thought that after talking with Sam he was on the way to getting over it, but then the nightmares began. Taunts and mocks from his friends haunted his dreams every night, reminding him of his time in New York. _Failure_ , the voices told him, again and again. And were they really wrong? Zachariah sure drove it home that he’d never step foot on Broadway; the way he blacklisted Dean’s name promised that.

 _Failure,_ a whisper trickled into his ear, and Dean closed his eyes. _It’s not real, it’s not real_ he repeated, over and over again, but it felt like Zachariah was in the room with him, yellowing teeth glinting behind his chilling smile as he called Dean a disgrace to theatre.

He fell to his knees and brought his hands up to his ears, trying to knock out the din that was echoing all around him. It was no use. His breathing escalated as Zachariah’s voice rang out over and over again, blurring the ruby curtains in front of him into a wave of burgundy blotches. He couldn’t believe it; was he really having a freaking anxiety attack right before he was supposed to go on stage?

“Dean!” Sam’s voice called out, and he glanced up to find his brother crouching down to his level. “Stay with me, okay? You’re just having an anxiety attack. Things are going to be fine,” he consoled as he began running a hand down his arm.

But it wasn’t okay. The world was turning around him and he felt like he was going to be sick. His ears were ringing and sweat was now building in his palms. No way; there was no way anyone could see him like this, especially his old friends. He was still the legend around here, the pride of Lawrence University. He was supposed to be a big star by now, playing Jean Valjean on Broadway, not curled up on his alma mater’s stage as a wreck.

“I’ll get someone-“

“No!” Dean interrupted quickly, eyes clenched shut as he fought off the high that was rushing through him. “I’ll be fine. Just…gimme a few minutes to get it together, okay?”

“Dean, you need-”

“I said drop it, Sam!’ he called out loudly, and his brother’s recoil was like a slap to the face.

Sam nodded at him as he opened his eyes again and began taking controlled breaths. “They’ll understand if you tell them, you know. It doesn’t have to be a secret,” Sam whispered.

Dean fought his way into a sitting position and shoved his head between his knees. “Course I know that,” he muttered, fingers curling behind his neck. “But...I don’t need them to feel bad for me even more, you know?”

Sam perched his bottom lip between his top teeth and pushed up from the floor. “I’m gonna get you some ice, tell Jess that you’re running late. I…,” he paused and leaned to his right side. “I’m here for you, you know that?”

“Thanks,” he muttered to the glitter caked ground.

Sam put out his hand and Dean took it. He pulled Dean up and threw him a towel that reeked of body odor, but Dean ignored it as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Sam asked.

Dean tossed the towel over his shoulder and shrugged nervously. “I will be.” He could see that Sam wanted to talk it out, but Dean shut him down before he could even start. “Go on. Tell Jess that I’ll be out ASAP and it’ll be like nothing’s wrong. I won’t mess up this audition for you.”

Sam opened his lips to argue back, but came up short when Dean just turned his back and picked up his crumpled script from the ground.

“Let me know if you need anything, I guess,” Sam muttered while Dean walked over to a mirror leaned up against the peeling wall. Without another word, he pushed through the curtains and was gone.

Dean rubbed the palm of his hand over his face and groaned. Perfect. Just freaking fantastic. He was expected to go out there and _not_ be a total and utter wreck? Even though Dean was past the hardest part of the panic attack, his heart continued to hammer away in his chest, and he heard voices flutter through the curtain as Sam and Jess opened up the theater for callbacks.

“Okay, everyone!” Jess’s voice called out, and Dean took a good look at himself in the mirror as Jess explained the process. He was a little worse for wear, but nothing terrible. His eyes looked a little red, but not as bad as he thought they’d be, and there actually wasn’t a lot of sweat seeping through his threadbare t-shirt. Besides the lingering tremble of his hands, he actually could pass as composed.

“…And joining us for the callbacks will be our Christian, Dean Winchester!”

Now or never.

After wiping his hands on his jeans, Dean pushed through the curtains and onto the stage. The lights flashed into his eyes and he tripped back a few steps. Dean heard Garth’s call of ‘sorry!’ from the tech booth, and when the brightness dimmed back to normal levels he was able to look out into the crowd. A lot of the usual actors were in attendance. Jo and Anna were curled up together by the side of the stage, their fingers entwined for support. Benny and Gabriel were letting out loud whoops from the back of the crowd, and of course Sam and Jess were throwing him excited smiles from the front row.

But they weren’t the first people Dean eyed in the group of callbacks. Sitting over to the side by himself was the guy from backstage crew, Castiel. For some reason, Dean’s gaze flew to him the minute he walked onto the familiar stage. Possibly it was the unruly hair, the thick build of his arms, those electric blue irises that were even more lively in person, or maybe it was the open mouthed expression that was just gaping back at him like a fish. Either way, Dean put on his well worn persona and winked at the guy before walking down to his chair next to Sam in the front row.

When he heard a low squeak from behind, Dean just grinned. This was gonna be fun.

Sam got up from his chair and held his clipboard up to the air. “Okay, looks like we’ll be auditioning for the role of The Duchess first, so I’ll need Jo, Meg, and Alex to the front please.”

The girls in question wandered up to the stage and grabbed scripts from Jess while Dean picked his own copy up from the floor. Sure, it was rough and nowhere near what would be given to the actors, but Dean couldn’t help but to be proud of Sammy and Jess. They managed to put together a full, original script over the course of a few weeks, and as he flipped through the pages he laughed at some of the cheesier lines of the dialogue as the girls got blocked out on the stage.

“Turn to page thirty…” Sam instructed.

Dean just sat back and watched as Jess and Sam called out cues and lines. Well, at least Dean tried to watch. He paid attention to Jo’s audition (a little too tame for a character as ruthless at the Duchess, but he’d never tell her that), and there was no way anyone could ignore Meg’s overpowering and commanding performance, but once Alex wandered over to the middle of the stage and began half heartedly reciting her lines, Dean’s thoughts wandered back towards a much more interesting subject.

Dean turned around and flicked a gaze over to Castiel. The man was not awestruck like before. No, now he was staring straight ahead with icy eyes and an even colder expression, the curve of his lips pushed into a harsh grimace. It felt like he was trying impossibly hard not to glance back into Dean’s prying look though, and when he turned back around to witness Alex perform a lackluster performance of ‘Like a Virgin,’ he was positive that Castiel turned towards him, even if it was only slightly.

He thought that once the Duchess auditions were over and the Zidler ones began he’d be able to get his act together and pay attention, but once Gabriel began belting out the chorus to ‘The Show Must Go On,’ Dean felt his eyes shifting back towards Castiel once again and when he found the same expression as before on his face, _then_ Dean knew that he could focus.

He told that to himself at least five times as his eyes flew back and forth between Castiel and the stage, and by the time Sam called up the potential actors for Satine, Dean had missed most of the performances.

“Final callbacks!” Sam yelled as his eyes flickered over the folder Jess gave him. Dean pushed up from his chair and trekked down the ramp towards the stage entrance. “Benny, Bartholomew, and Castiel are up for the role of Satine.”

The low murmurs that rang out through the crowd made Dean grin. This was going to be interesting all right, and as expected, at least five hands flew up in the air after the announcement was made.

Sam turned towards the crowd and picked a girl out from the fray. “Question?” he asked, and the woman got up from her chair and pointed at the group of men on the stage.

“Satine is played by a woman, so why are you auditioning men?” she asked.

“This is a creative retelling, so I’m casting Satine as a man. It will bring an LGBTQ element to the piece.”

Jess pointed to the next girl, and the confusion on her face was almost comical. “But…why?”

“As Jess explained earlier, this is for a theatre competition. The retelling needs to be creative, and after scouting out a couple of the other productions, none of them are changing the sexualities of the established characters. I just thought that it’d be interesting and a good place for representation.”

“But Dean isn’t even gay!” one girl cried out, and Dean immediately perked up at that. He really wanted to snap back at her, but Sam’s bitch face beat him to it, and with a huff of breath Sam threw up his hands.

“My brother’s sexuality is none of your business, and if you cannot accept the creative decision I am making then I suggest you leave now.”

The girl let out a frustrated grunt before picking up her bag from the floor and storming out of the auditorium. After a moment of awkward silence, three more girls got up from their chairs and followed her, talking lowly about ‘unfairness’ and ‘sexism.’

“Is anyone else out, or can we begin?” Sam yelled to the crowd. Despite the voices that were now talking back and forth, no one else objected and Sam turned towards the actors. “Okay, guys. We’re going to begin with trying out harmonies from ‘Elephant Love Medley’. Castiel, Benny, go stand over there. I’ll be running this with Dean and Bartholomew first.”

Dean’s eyes followed the other two men as they walked off to the side of the stage, and if his gaze stayed on Castiel’s stern form a little longer than necessary, it didn’t mean a thing.

The auditions went by pretty quickly. Halfway through Bartholomew’s less than stellar harmonies of ‘Elephant Love Medley’, Jess and Sam called it off and told him to go sit back down. The confident look on Bartholomew's face clearly was misplaced, because Dean saw Jess cross his name out on the sheet of potentials.

Benny came up next, and the two of them blended together like magic. They’d been friends long enough to know where the other person would go before they even did it, and their complimenting bass and tenor highlighted the good traits in each other’s voices. After the cold reading of the balcony scene, Dean felt confident that Benny would be the Satine to his Christian.

But Dean forgot about the mysterious and brooding Castiel who was singing under his breath in a corner.

“Castiel!” Sam called from the front. “You’re our final audition today.”

The man sauntered (there really wasn’t another way to describe it) up to the stage with that cold expression still plastered into place. It was so different from the man he first saw when he walked out from behind that curtain that Dean wondered if he was even looking at the same person.

Dean decided that it was time to bring back the man he first saw in that headshot, the one who was smiling ear to ear.

“Hi, I’m Dean.”

Castiel eyed him like he was a piece of garbage and nodded in his direction. “Castiel, but I’m positive that you already knew that,” he said in a low and monotonous voice.

_Okay…weird._

“You’ve auditioned before-“

“I’m not here for small talk,” Castiel interrupted with a flick of his hand. His eyes were trained on the back of the auditorium as he talked. “Let us get this over with so I can go home.”

_Great. The dude is a dick._

“Listen, buddy, you don’t have to be here if you don’t wanna be, and I don’t like di-“

The music cued in before Dean got to finish his retaliation, and right before his eyes Castiel transformed. His offstandish and prissy attitude faded into one of quiet confidence as he turned his back on Dean and let out the first lines of the song.

“ _Please, don’t start that again,’”_ Castiel said in a quiet voice, and Dean almost missed his line.

“ _All you need is love!”_ Dean sang out, and reached forward like they were actually on stage, acting this out for an entire audience to see.

“ _A boy has got to eat!”_ Castiel replied as he walked away from Dean’s outstretched hand.

“ _All you need is love!”_ Dean repeated.

_“He’ll end up on the street!”_

“ _All you need is love, love…”_

Castiel turned towards Dean with a mischievous grin on his face. “ _Love is just a game._ ”

Dean threw him a smirk back and then began walking forward. _“I was made for loving you…”_

The rest of the audition was filled with a buzzing tension and playfulness beneath the words. Even though Castiel was a bit pretentious, they actually worked well together. Castiel would sing out a line and Dean would counter right back, and it was clear that Castiel was an avid fan of the film. He was even following the mannerisms Nicole Kidman put into her version of the character, and for a while Dean got so caught up in the song that he forgot that other people were watching them. By the time the final notes played and Castiel’s hands were cupped in his, the applause that broke out was actually a surprise, and Dean was suddenly knocked back into the present where everyone was cheering them on.

Castiel dropped his palms and turned towards the audience. His eyes were dominant and his posture proud, and with an exaggerated bow he turned away from Dean. Then, without even uttering a word about a good audition, or even a thank you, Castiel got down from the stage and began strutting towards the exit.

_What the hell?_

“Call me when you cast me,” Castiel called, and with a flip of his hand he walked out the doors and away, leaving Dean and the rest of them gaping at his abrupt exit.


	7. Chapter 7

_MOULIN ROUGE! CASTING_

_CHRISTIAN………………..………DEAN WINCHESTER_

_HAROLD ZIDLER………….………….GABRIEL MILTON_

_THE DUCHESS…………..………………MEG MASTERS_

_NINI LEGS IN THE AIR…..…………….….RUBY VEGAS_

_ARABIA……...…………..……..………….…ALEX MILLS_

_MARIE…………….….…….….…………….TRACY BELL_

_THE DOCTOR….…..……….……….ALFIE ANDERSON_

_CHINA DOLL………..…………………….KALI VARGAS_

_THE UNCONSCIOUS ARGENTINEAN.....BARTHOLOMEW GRACELAND_

_MOME FROMAGE…………..……..……JO HARVELLE_

_THE GREEN FAIRY………………..……ANNA MILTON_

_SATINE………………….…………..……………………_

_TOULOUSE-LAUTREC ………..………….……………_

The cursor on his laptop screen blinked mockingly as Sam leaned back in a wooden chair he was seated on. He was in the kitchen of Jess’s townhouse, glancing around at her laminate countertops and teal oven from the fifties. The only modern appliance was the microwave on her wall, and the obnoxious, neon numbers teased him as he keyed through the cast list.

“Still undecided?” Jess asked as she walked over to the round table and slid a cup of coffee into his hands. She yawned loudly and wiped the tiredness from her eyes with the back of her wrist.

He nodded at her in appreciation and turned towards the screen. “Why can’t I just put Benny’s name down? Dean would appreciate it, and after Cas’s outburst I don’t know if I want him as my lead.”

Jess tapped her fingers against the table. “Do you really believe that Benny is the right person for this role?” she asked.

He let out a sigh, bringing the mug of steaming coffee to his lips. “No, it should go to Cas. But he was such an asshole at the audition!” he complained. “Why was he like that?”

“That’s not what Cas is usually like!” Jess exclaimed while he took a sip from his cup. “I don’t know why he was being all…pretentious yesterday.”

Sam felt himself perk up at the taste on his tongue. “Is that cinnamon?” he asked.

“Nutmeg,” Jess replied. “I thought it’d add a little- you’re distracting me from my point!” She plopped down in the chair across from him and threw him a warm smile. “What I’m saying is, Cas is right for this part. I know it.”

“Are you sure? Because you know Cas better than I do and I don’t want a douche as my lead.”

Jess nodded vigorously. “He’s a nice guy, and maybe he was nervous. Just…give him a chance?”

Sam let out a groan and ran a hand over his face. “Fine….”

“Thank you, Sam!” Jess squealed, reaching over to wind her arms around Sam’s chest. “You won’t regret this at all!”

“I better not, Jess!” he called as she got up and pranced out of the room. Sam turned back to his computer and typed:

_SATINE…………………………………..………CASTIEL NOVAK_

_TOULOUSE-LAUTREC…………...…………...BENNY LAFITTE_


	8. Chapter 8

Cas couldn’t stop worrying for days after the audition.

Sure, he thought that he did well, but then he remembered the pretentious actor bit he pulled. Maybe he wouldn’t get the part because Sam thought he was an ass. Maybe he’d never get to live out his last chance at freedom because he went and acted like he was better than anyone else.

Maybe he’d miss out on his big break because he was trying to get Dean to dislike him, and ended up making _everyone_ dislike him instead.

The plan sounded like a good idea when he thought it up. Go to the audition, act like a diva, push away any chance of Dean liking him. If Dean didn’t like him, then Cas couldn’t act on the clear crush that was still lingering from years ago. If Cas couldn’t act on the crush, then Crowley wouldn’t get suspicious of where he was spending his time, because he wouldn’t stay longer than necessary. If Crowley was not suspicious, then neither would his mother be. Therefore, Cas could, no, would, get through this entire ordeal without screwing up the plans for their arranged marriage.

But what if Cas went too far? Sam looked pissed when he walked off yesterday, and Jess looked confused too. What if she didn’t want him in the role either now?

When two days passed without any word about casting, Cas’s nerves began to show.

“Castiel? What’s wrong?” Crowley asked over his newspaper.

Cas grabbed a box of Lucky Charms from the pantry and poured it into his bowl. He was up late working on a thesis and worrying about the audition, and dealing with Crowley wasn’t on his list of priorities. “Nothing,” he replied, but Crowley was having none of it.

“Nonsense. You’ve been eating like a child for days now. You only do that if you’re nervous about something, darling.”

Cas put down the box and pushed the bowl away. “It’s nothing, Crowl.”

A hand landed on his arm and squeezed, and Cas looked up into Crowley’s piercing gaze. “Do not lie to me, Castiel.”

Obviously Crowley could not know about the musical; if he found out that Cas was going to be near Dean again, he’d riot.

“Professor Mills is considering me for her theatre troupe,” he lied. “Auditions were last week and I still haven’t heard back.”

Crowley’s grip on his arm eased and his eyes softened a bit. “Oh Castiel, I’m positive that you did wonderfully. Jody would be a fool not to cast you.”

Cas quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re on a first name basis with Professor Mills?”

Crowley let go of Cas and got up from the table. “Please. I was her favorite student when I was in her class. If you want, I can put in a good word for you.”

He froze for a minute before recovering. “Uh…that won’t be necessary…dear.” Cas cringed at the use of Crowley’s preferred pet name, but could only pray that it would distract him from Cas’s reluctance. “I’m positive that Professor Mills will post the list soon. I’ll just check outside of her office after class today.”

Crowley eyed him, but just shook it off before putting his paper down. “If you need that recommendation, just ask.” He popped up from the barstool he was seated on and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, tossing it over his arm. “I’m going to be out late tonight working downtown. Louise is coming by to clean the apartment while you’re at class, and I expect you to be here when I get back,” he called as he grabbed his laptop bag from the floor and his keys from the bowl by the door. “I’m gonna need a long massage from you to unwind.”

Cas glared at Crowley’s back as he walked away. “Have a good day,” he muttered under his breath, but Crowley was already out the door and didn’t respond. Cas let out a sigh of relief when the door closed. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes and blinked away the galaxy that bloomed to life behind his eyelids, then berated himself for not coming up with a better lie. How could he forget that Crowley took a class with Professor Mills last year? He’d find out that there was no theatre troupe fast enough, and that would lead to questions, confrontation, figuring out it was all a ruse to throw him off from Cas’s true role in Jess and Sam’s play.

That was, if Cas got cast.

He loudly groaned to himself as he pushed up from the chair and tugged on his hair in frustration. It never took this long to get casting news. If Cas hadn’t heard anything by now, could it really be possible that he wasn’t going to get cast at all?

As if on cue, Cas’s phone pinged in his pocket. He pulled out the device and felt his gut jump when he found a text from Jess.

_Jess: Cast list is up outside of the auditorium :)_

He nervously tapped away a reply to the text with trembling fingers.

_Cas: And? Was I cast?_

As he waited for the response, Cas busied himself with getting ready. It was early in the morning and he hadn’t even gotten out of his pajamas yet. Knowing Jess, she’d wait a while to reply, because behind that innocent exterior was a woman who thrived on Cas’s well known impatience.

 He pulled on a pair of jeans and a button up shirt, then checked the phone for a text. Of course, there was none, so he brushed his teeth and played with his hair until it didn’t look like he rolled out of bed…or had enthusiastic sex. When he finished with that and still didn’t have a text, he wandered around the living room until the familiar ping went off from the table.

_Jess: Why don’t you go down to the auditorium and find out like all the others? You’re not getting any special treatment from me, Novak._

He growled at the phone and typed out a quick response before pulling on his boots.

_Cas: You’re the worst._

_Jess: Love you too! Good luck!_

He let out a long, exaggerated sigh before opening the door and running to the elevator. He pushed the button and drummed his fingers against his arm as he waited for the ancient contraption to finally come up to his floor. When it finally did, he pushed the button for the ground floor and tried not to think about the cast list.

Who was he trying to fool, though? As Cas caught the bus to Lawrence U, the only thing he could think about was that piece of paper that would be tacked up in front of the auditorium. Would his name be listed under the role of Satine, or would Benny’s be there instead? Would he be playing the coveted role, or did he truly ruin any chance of being on the stage at all?

When the bus pulled up in front of the University, Cas was the first one to push his way to the front. He began trudging towards the Thompson Center as fast as he possibly could, dodging past students and professors alike. He ran until he elbowed his way through the doors and glimpsed the crowd by the theater entrance, a few girls turning away with disappointed looks on their faces.

His running turned into walking as he approached the group, and once Jo found him coming towards them, she gestured for the others to get out of his way. The low talking turned into quiet as everyone watched Cas approach the piece of tacked up paper. He felt eyes roaming over him, and as he approached the list, he didn’t know what to expect.

Cas braced himself against the wall as he read the page, top to bottom. Dean’s name was on the list first, followed by Gabriel, Meg, and Ruby. The further down Cas got, the more his anxieties rose. Why couldn’t he find his name?

With a sigh, Cas began to turn away from the paper. He wasn’t on the list. He wasn’t cast at all. Why did he go through with acting like an ass?

“Congrats, Satine,” Benny whispered from behind him.

Cas spun around faster than he thought possible. “Excuse me?”

Benny raised an eyebrow at him and turned Cas back to the cast list. He raised a finger to the print and pointed to the clear listing Cas overlooked.

_SATINE…………………………………..………CASTIEL NOVAK_

Cas felt his eyes widen. He got the part. He would be playing the role he’d always coveted but never thought he could have.

Benny brought his arm up and threw it around Cas’s shoulders, then turned him towards the rest of the group. Applause broke out from his friends while jealous girls walked away with disappointment in their eyes. Anna and Jo were beaming, Ruby and Meg appraised him from afar, and Garth was hooting and hollering from across the room. Cas felt a blush rise to his cheeks at all the attention, but it faded once he locked gazes with Gabriel. He was looking at Cas with cold eyes, and Cas could only guess that it had to do with their conversation in the Caf earlier.

Benny let go of him and patted him on the back before whispering ‘good job’ in his ear, then walked off to talk with Alex in the corner. Cas made a beeline for Anna and Jo, but Gabriel intercepted him first. He dragged them into the auditorium. The only sound was the buzzing of the lights above, unease palpable in the air.

“What the hell-“ Cas exclaimed, but Gabriel brought a finger to his lips.

“You realize what this means, correct?” Gabriel whispered under his breath. “You will be playing opposite Deano.”

Cas pushed Gabriel’s finger away and glared. “Yes, Gabriel, I’m aware of who is playing my love interest. Your point?”

Gabriel peeked outside and carefully closed the theater door. When he turned back around, his eyes were filled with frustration. “The point being that you are still crushing on him after all these years!”

“Uh…” Cas blabbed, but he couldn’t come up with a reply. He fell back onto his heels and leaned against a nearby wall. “Is it that obvious?”

“Clear as day. Your little act you put on during callbacks didn’t fool anyone, compadre. We all saw the way you looked at Dean when he first walked in. Puppy eyes everywhere, tails a ’waggin.”

Cas blushed and turned away from Gabriel. Of course his friends didn’t buy his act; he’d be offended if they did. The real question, the only one that mattered, was if _Dean_ bought it.

“I can’t get involved with him,” Cas murmured. “If Crowley finds out…” he trailed off, unable to fully express the dangers involved if his fiancé caught wind of the production.

When Gabriel caught Cas’s discomfort, his eyes softened and concern took the place of his earlier glare. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything dumb. I’ve only met Crowley once, and I don’t know what you see in him, but I don’t want him lurking around here if he gets wind of your crush on Winchester. Dude gives me the creeps.”

As if on cue, a low beeping chimed out from Cas’s pocket. Gabriel glared at him when Cas fished for the phone, and grimaced when he read the name on the screen.

“That your fiancé?” Gabriel asked, lip curled up in distaste, but Cas just waved him off as he picked up the call.

“Hello?” Cas said.

 _“Where the hell are you?”_ Crowley barked at him. “ _I went back to the apartment to change shirts and you were gone.”_

 _Shit_ , Cas thought. He bit his lip and began to pace the floor. What could he tell Crowley? What would be a good lie? “Jody called after you left,” Cas got out through gritted teeth, eyes closing tight. “I was cast in that troupe and our first meeting is right now.”

 _“You failed to tell me that you were accepted,”_ Crowley said.

“Sorry I didn’t call you the minute it happened,” Cas deadpanned.

Quiet. Cas’s fingers curled around the phone as tight as they could until Crowley replied, _“Very well then, but get home early tonight. Mother has requested your presence on our Skype call and she won’t be kept waiting.”_

Without another word, Crowley hung up and Cas let out a sigh of relief, which lasted for all of five seconds before he caught Gabriel’s annoyed gaze.

“That Crowley?” he muttered.

“Yes, but he doesn’t know about the production. He won’t be coming around, I promise.”

Gabriel sighed and brushed the back of his hand across his forehead. “Fine,” he replied. “But if he catches wind of your crush on Dean-”

“I promised you I wouldn’t get involved, and I won’t,” Cas snapped back. “You don’t understand everything behind our relationship, but trust me when I say that even being friends with Dean is not an option. You have nothing to worry about.”

Gabriel nodded in assent and graciously backed off, palms raised in the air. “I’ll accept that for now, but that doesn’t mean I believe a word of it, okay?”

“I’ll prove it to you,” Cas said as he gestured towards the door, anything to get Gabriel out of this auditorium and back into safer territory. “At the first rehearsal, I think you’ll see just how much Dean dislikes me already. It’s foolproof.”

Gabriel squinted at him, but said nothing else as they exited the auditorium and walked back into the lobby filled with happy castmates. Immediately Benny swooped Gabriel into a hug, congratulating him on his role before chatting him up about a party that night. It was the perfect distraction Cas needed. Without saying goodbye, he found his way back out the door and caught a bus just in time, escaping Gabriel’s questions and suspicions. He’d need to be more careful, he realized, if his friend wasn’t going to catch on.

 _No problem_ , he thought. _It’s just time to up the ante. When I’m done, Dean won’t even want to say my name._


	9. Chapter 9

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Be-

“Shut _up_ ,” Dean groaned as he slammed his hand down on the buzzing alarm. The blinking neon lights read 4:45, and it took everything in him not to just roll over and sleep until the end of time. His body felt like a giant piece of lead as he forced himself to sit up and open the blinds by his bed, and the darkness of night outside of his window didn’t make him feel any better. 

Why was he up this early again? Oh yeah, Sammy just _insisted_ on their first rehearsal being before classes today. _It’s the only time we can get everyone together this week, Dean!_ Sam had said, but he didn’t buy it. His brother probably just wanted an excuse to beat the morning rush at the campus coffee shop to grab whatever organic, crappy nutrition bar he was eating these days before it sold out. 

Sighing, Dean pushed out of bed and padded down the hallway. Sam’s room was unsurprisingly empty and the apartment was serenely quiet, only the sound of their wall clock ticking in the background. When he came into the kitchen, a sticky note was on their refrigerator that read: 

_Be at Thompson by 5:30 so we can go over things before the rest of the cast arrives. I went to Edlund building to grab coffee. Don’t be late! -Sam_

Dean smirked at the piece of paper and balled it up in his hand. His brother was too easy to figure out at times. 

After putting on a can of coffee and grabbing the newspaper from their front door, Dean turned on the water in the shower and waited for it to warm up. His body felt disgusting from the residue of sweat on it, an unwanted reminder that he had another nightmare. He felt himself tense up when he remembered the way Sam’s eyes looked when he taunted him, the way his father laughed. But the most unsettling thing was the new addition to the dream. Cas was there now, but unlike the others he wasn’t taunting Dean with the word ‘failure’. No, instead Cas just stared at him blankly, mouth pushed down into a white line that screamed disappointment. 

Somehow that felt worse than all of the others combined. 

He pushed off the thoughts as he peeled off his boxers and t-shirt. He couldn’t be thinking about any nightmares, not then. There were more important things to consider, like if Cas would be different today than he’d been at callbacks, or if he was really going to be working with the worst case of diva complex he’d ever seen in all his years of theatre. Seriously, who just leaves in the middle of an audition and assumes that they’ll get cast? If it weren’t for Jess’s intervention, he would’ve been kicked to the curb like yesterday’s garbage. 

And yet, Dean couldn’t deny that there was a connection between him and Cas when they were on stage together. The way Cas’s eyes flashed at him as he effortlessly shifted into character, to the banter they achieved just from the audition alone. He couldn’t deny that it felt like they were Satine and Christian up there, two dreamers who wanted the affection of one another. Sam was right in casting Cas, he could see that, but Cas was still a pretentious asshole. He felt himself getting annoyed as he replayed the encounter, so he just shrugged it off and got into the now steaming shower, letting the warm water run over his body and calm him before the rehearsal. 

At first, Dean was able to push off thoughts of the production and relax. He lathered his hair up in Sam’s shampoo because hey, he could admit that he envied his brother’s hair at times, then let the water cascade over his body as soap traversed down into the drain. It pounded against his arms, back, legs, the pressure almost enticing an uncalled for moan from his lips, but then he caught eye of a bluebird outside his window that was tilting its head...just like Cas had done at the audition, which led to him angrily scrubbing his face as he rehashed it for the thousandth time. 

The whole thing was dumb. Totally, completely dumb. How could one interaction make him this irritated? 

He didn’t get to consider it for long before the beginning notes of Zep’s ‘When the Levee Breaks’ began blaring from his phone. 

“Shit,” Dean muttered as he kicked off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack. He hastily flung it around his waist as he slipped and slid over the wet tiles, grabbing his phone just as it was on the last round of ringing. 

“Talk to me,” Dean said without looking at the caller ID. 

“ _Dean? Where are you? It’s 5:45, asshole!”_

 _Uh-oh._ “Uh...sorry about that, Sam. I guess I lost track of time in the shower, you know?” 

Silence rang out from the other end for a few seconds before Sam sighed and said, “ _Look, I know that it’s been awhile for you, but can you not_ please _yourself before rehearsals?”_

“Whoa, I was _not_...I _never…_ ,” Dean stammered while he fumbled with his towel, and after a moment of quiet he heard Sam’s loud, boisterous laugh from the other end. 

“ _Just get here as fast as you can. A few of the cast members are already ready to go and the sooner we can start, the better for everyone._ ” 

“Will do,” Dean mumbled quickly before ending the call and abandoning the towel all together. Quicker than he’d ever done before, Dean ran down the hallway with water dripping from his hair, leaving a wet trail behind as he went. He frantically grabbed the first garments he found in his closet- thank goodness that his wardrobe rarely deviated from jeans and plaid, which went with anything- then pulled them on as fast as he could. Once he was properly dressed, it only took a few moments before he was pushing on his boots and running out the door. 

He was lucky that Sam’s apartment building was only a short drive away from campus, but when he got out of his car and began running across the Quad, he was already a half hour late and had gotten three texts from Sam telling him to hurry up. 

“Damn it, Sam!” Dean exclaimed as he felt his phone vibrate against his thigh for what felt like the hundredth time. With Thompson Center clearly in view, Dean busied himself with grabbing his phone out of his pocket while he zigzagged past professors and students alike. He was proud of himself when he made it to the door without knocking into anyone, but when he opened it and ran inside, he only got to take about five steps before he collided with someone coming in the other direction, causing papers to fly all around. 

“Ouch! I’m sor-” Dean began, but came up short when he caught Cas’s gaze from the floor. He looked flustered at first, birdlike eyes wide and blue, before he twisted his lips into a frown. 

“You’re late,” Cas noted sternly as he picked up the loose pieces of paper he dropped. 

Dean scowled while he peeled himself off the floor. “Yeah, no shit. Why do you care?” 

Cas curled his fingers tightly against the pile of papers in his hand before replying. “Not that you would care, but I have class at eight. If we’d actually been able to begin on time, I wouldn’t be risking tardiness later. And now we’re wasting more time because you galloped in here like a caveman.” 

He couldn’t believe this. Cas was going to blame all of this on him? He felt anger rising, and it took everything in him to keep his cool and remain calm. With a sigh, Dean crouched to the ground and began collecting the dropped papers. When he caught a glance at one, he realized that they were Sam’s final script. 

“Did you get a chance to read over it before you came here? Pretty good, right?” Dean asked with a weak grin, but Cas clearly was not amused. 

“I’m not going to engage in inane small talk with you,” he spat, eyes squinted and face filled with disgust. 

“Whoa, I don’t know what I ever did to you-” 

“It’s what you have failed to do that irks me,” Cas probed with a harsh laugh. He pushed up from the ground and eyed Dean like he was a bug that needed to be crushed. “I am sullying myself by working with you, Dean. I know all about your little fiasco in New York. If Zachariah Adler doesn’t want you, then you’ll never make it out there. But I have a future,” he beamed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You don’t and for that, I pity you.” 

Dean couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt victimized, attacked, and most of all, shocked. He’d expected a lot from Cas, but this? This was beyond what he could deal with. 

Dean narrowed his eyes and pushed Cas into a corner. Cas’s eyes flashed with fear before hardening once again, and for a brief, tiny second, Dean wondered if this was all a ruse. But when Cas’s lips pushed up into that mocking grin again, he balled his fists and shoved them into Cas’s collarbone. 

“Now you listen up, asshole,” Dean growled under his breath, lips coming up to hover by Cas’s ear. “Do you really think you’ll make it here if I tell Sam what a jerk you are? I’m his brother, and if I say I won’t do this with you, then you’ll be the one out of the job. Are we clear?” 

Cas brought his fingers up and pushed Dean away, eyes as hard as crystals. “You have no clue what I am capable of, Winchester. You should show me some respect.” 

And, well, Dean wasn’t expecting that to sound hot. 

“Guys! What are you doing?” Sam called out as he poked his head out the theater doors. “Everyone’s waiting on you guys and...whoa, are you okay?” 

“We’re fine,” they called in unison, and Dean watched Sam shrug before turning away from the door. When he left, he flicked his gaze back to Cas and took a step back. 

“I don’t like you,” Dean whispered lowly, finger pointed at Cas’s nose. He turned on his heel and began trekking towards the theater doors. “You’re not gonna be my Satine, Novak. You’ll be replaced in no time.” 

“We’ll see about that, Winchester!” he heard Cas’s voice call out as he began walking towards him, and he cringed. 

_Do not go back and punch him. It’s not worth it_ , he told himself as he walked into the theater, Cas close behind. 

With a grunt, Dean clenched his fists and stomped over to where Jo and Anna were sitting, thankful when Cas slid into a chair next to Jess instead of following. 

“Okay, first read through is a go!” Sam exclaimed as he enthusiastically clapped his hands. A couple other cast members joined in, but most of the actors were slumped over in their chairs, trying desperately to keep their eyes open. 

“The sun’s barely out yet, brother,” Benny mumbled into his hand. “Tone it down, will ya?” 

Sam glanced around the room and curled in on himself a bit. “I guess it is a bit early, isn’t it?” 

“You think?” Jo piqued up from next to him, blonde hair curtaining her face. “I didn’t even get a chance to take a shower, Sam. Do you know how gross I feel right now?” 

“She is pretty nasty,” Anna teased from next to her. “I would know, after all.” 

Jo smirked at her girlfriend and lightly smacked her on the arm. “You’re terrible.” 

“Can we please get back to the read through?” Sam complained as he rolled his eyes at the cast. “I know it’s early, but we’ve gotta put our entire energy into this! We’ve only got an hour or so before Cas and Benny need to get to class, so let’s make the most out of our time together.” He turned towards Dean and pointed at him. “You. Up.” 

“You. Calm your tits.” Dean said as he pushed up from his chair, which got a low laugh out of everyone.

His brother, clearly unamused, grabbed his copy of the script from the director’s chair and tossed a copy over to Dean. “We’re gonna read through the beginning first, so it’ll just be you on stage. Then we’ll flow right into when Christian discovers the Moulin Rouge in flashback, so we’ll need Bartholomew and Benny too.” 

Dean made his way over to center stage with Benny and Bartholomew close behind, and Garth threw on the lights from the tech booth. He pulled up a chair from stage right and slid into it, blinking against the brightness as his eyes adjusted. When he looked into the audience, everyone was engrossed in their own scripts, except for Cas, who was glaring at him with an intensity Dean didn’t quite understand. 

“Let’s take it from the top!” Sam called from the floor. “Benny, ignore singing for now and Dean, say your opening lines.” 

Dean cleared his throat and glanced down at his script, even though he didn’t need it. He’d been reading lines with Sam for weeks, after all. He closed his eyes for a second and fell into character, and prepared to deliver the agony of first love’s loss. 

“The Moulin Rouge...a nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich-”

“What is that?” Cas heckled from his chair, eyes wide and amused. He got up and wandered over to the stage, laying his elbows down on it and quirking his gaze up to Dean on the platform. “That was terrible.” 

_What?_ “Are you friggin’ kidding me, Novak? I barely said five lines-”

“Which were terribly delivered, by the way,” he taunted. He pushed himself up onto the stage and stood in front of Dean. “Let me show you how it’s done.” 

“No, you will not. Get off the damn stage, Cas!” Sam angrily yelled from the sidelines where he was sitting with Jess, who was grimacing in secondhand embarrassment.

Dean couldn’t hide the smirk on his face when Cas got called out, and gleefully crossed his arms over his chest when Cas glared at him and climbed down to the main floor. 

“Take it from the top,” Sam said as he waved his finger in the air. “And no heckling this time, please?” 

After Cas sauntered back to his chair and took a seat again, Dean centered himself and got back into character. With tired eyes, he looked up and began to recite his lines. 

“The Moulin Rouge...a nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful come to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. And the most beautiful of these was the man I loved, Satine, a courtesan. He sold his love to men and women alike. They called him ‘The Sparkling Diamond,’ and he was...he was…Novak, what the hell are you mouthing at me, man?” 

He felt annoyance rise within him when Cas leaned forward on his hand and rolled his eyes. “I was trying to get you to project more. Your voice doesn’t carry well, you know.” 

“He does have a point there-” Sam interjected, but fell quiet when Dean threw an icy glare at him from the stage. “Uh, anyway, let’s take it from the top again, and no comments until it’s finished, agreed?” 

Everyone nodded along with Sam’s directions, but Cas just threw Dean a wink from the front row. 

_What a douche_ , Dean thought to himself before he once more tried to focus on his character. He opened his lips and spoke the first lines again. “The Moulin Rouge...a nightclub, a dance hall, and a…,” when he looked over and found Cas mocking him, he tossed up his hands in the air and jumped down from the stage. “Okay, I’m done! I can’t work like this, Sam!” 

“Oh, who’s being the diva now?” Cas called from the front, and Dean didn’t hesitate to stomp over with palms pushed into his pockets.

“You wanna go, Novak? Because I can take you any day,” he growled, getting right up in Cas’s personal space when a thick bolt of frustration rang through him. 

He was waiting for a response, but all he got was Cas staring at him in shocked disbelief. He looked afraid, with his hands balled up at his sides and his mouth pushed down into a hard line as his eyes flickered from Dean’s face, to the floor, and back again. And was he imagining it, or was there a slight tremble beneath his palms? 

Dean didn’t get to think about it before Sam ran over and grabbed the back of his button down, pulling him away from Cas and to the opposite side of the room. He felt fire roaring within him, and he wanted nothing more than to walk over to Cas and give him a piece of his mind, but his brother’s hand on his arm doused the flames a bit and he gritted his teeth, fighting off the bitterness he felt. 

“Look, if this is going to work then you two need to get along.” Sam turned to Cas and narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t know what your problem is, but my brother’s done nothing to you. Back off, or else I will have you replaced.” 

“That’s right! I told you-” 

“And you,” Sam turned towards him and pointed, “you need to calm down. This is the largest theatre festival in the Midwest and I won’t have my production’s name dragged through the mud because you got into an altercation.” 

“Are you gonna blame me for this? That’s bull!” Dean cried out. “Cas started it-”

“I don’t care! You’re both in the wrong and I won’t tolerate it, Dean.” 

He couldn't believe this. Was Sam really going to put to blame on both of them? This was all Cas, and if he couldn’t see that, then frankly, Dean didn’t want to be there. With a shove, Dean cruised past Sam and away from the cast. He needed to get out of there, clear his head. He couldn’t work like this, with _him,_ and if everyone wanted to be up Cas’s ass then fine, he’d be the one to leave. 

“Dean! Where are you going?” Sam yelled out, but he just flipped him the bird and tramped out the door. 

_Ridiculous. Totally ridiculous._ Dean clenched his fists as he angrily stalked across campus, trying to roll that entire rehearsal off of him, but it was no use. Cas had crawled into his life like a roach, and everything around him reminded Dean of him. From the sky, which almost was a perfect match for his eyes, to the kid he almost ran into as he was making his way across the Quad, it was like he couldn’t escape Cas’s presence. It was annoying Dean to no end, and with a grunt, he trekked into the parking lot and crawled into the Impala. At least that was a place with no remnants of his pompous castmate. 

“Who needs ‘em,” Dean mumbled under his breath as he clicked on the ignition, but even that wasn’t an escape. He forgot that yesterday he put the cast album to _Moulin Rouge!_ on, and the chorus of ‘Come What May’ blared at him through the speakers. 

Dean knocked his forehead against the steering wheel. He was completely and utterly _screwed._


	10. Chapter 10

Later that night, when Sam was back at the apartment, he approached Dean’s door with a peace offering perched between his fingers. He regretted the way he handled the situation during rehearsal, Jess giving him a bit of insight once everyone had left and the air had cooled down a bit.

“Dean?” Sam called, trying to be heard over the loud Queen tune that was blasting from his brother’s radio. “Dean, I need to talk to you!”

“Not interested, Sammy!” he heard Dean yell back.

Sam knocked his elbow into the door. “I’ve got beer!” he teased, and laughed to himself when the music immediately quieted down and Dean let him in.

“Kingdom?” Dean muttered under his breath with squinted eyes.

Sam held up the two bottles between his fingers and smiled weakly. “Would I offer anything less?”

Dean waited a few moments, but eventually fell back onto his bed while Sam perched on a computer chair, tossing one of the bottles over to his brother.

“I don’t enjoy fighting with you, Dean,” Sam began as he picked off the wet label. “But I think we need to talk about what happened out there.”

Dean popped off the top of his beer and took a drag before answering. “It felt like you were takin’ his side, Sammy,” Dean said lowly, eyes downcast to the floor. “Even after he was a jerk not just to me, but to you too. He was disrespectful, arrogant-”

“I know, I know,” Sam interjected when Dean’s face began to turn a warm vermillion. “And Jess is going to talk to him about it, find out what’s up. I don’t know Cas well, but even I know that’s not how he usually is. I just can’t place why he’s turned into such a diva.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at him and placed his beer down on the desk. “I don’t think I can work with him,” he complained as he wandered over to his bed and sat down. “Not if he’s gonna be like that.”

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t just fire him, Dean. Like it or not, you two are incredible together, and it’s too late in the game to find someone else to play Satine without upsetting the entire casting I’ve put together. Can you please just try to work with him? You know how important this scholarship is…” he trailed off, throwing his best puppy dog eyes in his brother’s direction.

Dean scowled at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck. “I dunno, Sammy…”

“I’ll buy you beer for a year. I’ll clean the Impala if you want, but please, please don’t back out on me now,” Sam practically begged. He couldn’t lose his brother, not now. It was only October, but with a production of this size, it would take every last minute until opening for him to pull it off. Dean leaving the play could not happen.

After a moment of tense silence, Dean clapped his palms together and pushed up from the bed. “Fine, but I can’t promise we’ll be civil. Not if he’s gonna be an asshole.”

“And I get that, Dean. I’m not expecting you to become his best friend and sing kumbaya, but I need you two to at least work together without throwing punches. Can you do that?”

Dean frowned for a second before sighing loudly and placing his beer on the floor. “I can do that, I guess.”

Sam grinned up at his brother and put his undrunk beer next Dean’s. “You’re doing me a big favor.”

“Oh trust me, I know. I’ll just cash it in later when you hook me up with Jess’s cousin,” he teased as he waggled his eyebrows, and Sam just groaned.

“Dean, I am not setting you up with Michelle!” he called as Dean left the room.

“If you want a Christian for your play you will!” Dean yelled back, and Sam just rolled his eyes. His brother could be such a jerk sometimes, but it was worth it. His production was back on track. Now, he just needed to keep Dean and Cas from biting each other’s heads off before opening night.


	11. Chapter 11

After their first rehearsal, Cas was confident that he’d pushed Dean off for good. Any time they were near one another, Dean would narrow his eyes at him, or make a backhanded compliment as he walked by. It was perfect, and only encouraged Cas to fight with Dean as much as possible. He’d comment on Dean’s dancing, or purposefully try to throw him off when they weren’t doing a scene together. And the best part of it was that their arguing did not affect their stage chemistry at all. Even though Dean despised Cas, he couldn’t botch their playful banter that came out when they were performing or singing along to ‘Elephant Love Medley.’

Regardless, that did not mean that Cas enjoyed being disliked by Dean. More than anything, Cas wanted to befriend his co-lead, but he knew the dangers he would entice if he dared to let himself get close to Dean in any way. He’d fruitlessly tried to forget about that frivolous crush over the past month and a half of rehearsals, but any time they’d get into character and Cas would have to look into his eyes, it was like he was eighteen again, admiring his crush from afar while he daydreamed about adopting a dog together or something equally unobtainable.

Frustrated over the whole situation he was forced in, he pushed his thoughts aside and tried to focus on the here and now. Trivial things were okay to think about, he perused, like the cast leaving the room in groups. He could ponder the cool tile beneath his fingers when he walked over to the edge of the theater and slid down to the ground. Cas leaned his head back against the brick wall and glanced at the ceiling, noticing the burnt out light bulbs and the blinking, green one that matched Dean’s eyes.

 _No,_ he chastised himself. _No thinking about Dean._

Sighing, Cas began again. He brought his gaze back down and found Alfie boisterously laughing at a joke Garth told as they exited the theatre, arms thrown around one another. He lost himself in the noises echoing around the room, like the sound of Jo pecking a kiss on Anna’s lips before jogging to catch up with the two joking men, or Anna’s loud giggle at her girlfriend’s affection. He tuned his exceptional hearing towards Sam and Jess, the two of them muttering in low tones about how they were going to block out the choreography for ‘Come What May’. The worried look on their faces clearly showed their distaste with the subject, and Cas could only assume their hesitations came back to the disastrous run-through from earlier with De-

_Dammit. I’m screwed._

Admitting defeat to his own infatuation, Cas pushed up from the ground and trekked backstage. He needed to get out of the theater if he was going to get his mind off of his ridiculous, dangerous crush, so he grabbed his bag from the floor and decided to head out for the night.

The backstage door was propped open, so Cas exited into the alley, like usual. It was deserted and dark, with only a lone Dumpster and an abandoned, broken down Ford in it. A streetlamp lit up the darkness, but otherwise, someone could be prowling at every turn, just waiting for an unexpecting person to walk by.

Shivering, and not from the cold, Cas trudged forward and made his way into the blackness. The sound of leaves fluttering on the ground and the distant sound of a train horn was all he could hear, and Cas quickened his walk when he felt like he was being watched, eyes trained on the back of his neck-

The next thing he knew, Cas found himself pushed up against the cold, brick edifice, strong hands gripping his neck and pushing into his windpipe.

Cas’s wheeling eyes flew up to the clouds before finally landing on his captor. “Crowley?” he cried out, panic rising when his fiancé’s yellowing teeth flashed at him from behind a cold, terrifying grin.

“Castiel,” Crowley said curtly, fingers digging deeper into his skin and causing black dots to flash before his eyes. “You think I wouldn’t have you followed? Check out every angle of that bullshit story you tried to sell me? I’m smarter than that, darling.”

“Let me go!” Cas tried to fight. He clawed at Crowley’s hands and freed himself for a moment, but Crowley’s strong grip grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him backwards, tumbling into the building’s wall once again.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway. I think we need to have a long chat first.” Crowley changed position and crowded further into Cas’s space, whiskey breath making him gag and kick harder against his assailant. “You betrayed me, Castiel. Do you not remember the last time you were around Dean Winchester? You practically blew our entire engagement over one tiny, pathetic crush. What would my mother say, Castiel? Do you think you’d still be alive if she found out that you were about to ruin our plans? I saved your ass back then. I covered for you when she came sniffing around and this is how you repay me?” Crowley growled into his ear, and Cas gasped against the fingers now curled at his neck.

“Crowley...please...let…” Cas began, but Crowley knocked him into the edifice, hard. The sound of his head smacking against the brick reverberated throughout the alley, and soon all Cas could think about was that he would die here, alone, with Crowley being the last thing he’d ever see. His body was trembling from fear and Cas could barely stand, the need to run fighting with Crowley’s hold over him. When his head began to pound and his vision began to blur, Cas braced himself for the worst.

“You little piece of shit,” Crowley snapped as he dug his nails deeper into Cas’s skin. “You are going to ruin everything for me and for what? He’s never going to want you, Castiel. He’ll never provide for you like I can, and yet you pine after all these years. You’re pathetic and worthless, darling.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” Cas croaked out. “It’s not like that-ah!” he yelled when Crowley brought his fist up and knocked it against his lip, eyes flashing with fire.

“I will not allow you to fall for him again, Castiel. My job is to keep you in line, and I intend to do just that, one way or the other.”

 _This is it_ , Cas thought to himself as the taste of iron landed on his tongue, eyes turning up to the stars above him. _I’m going to die._

“Hey, asshole. Put him down or else I’m callin’ the cops.”

 _No. No no no no no. Dean can not be here._ And yet, when Cas frantically looked over to the alley entrance, there was Dean with arms crossed over his chest and eyes alight with a fire he’d never seen in them before.

“Dean…” Cas tried croaking out, but it came out like a whisper and barely made it past his lips.

Crowley turned slowly towards Dean and mercifully let go of Cas’s neck. He dropped to the ground and gasped for air, eyes flitting over to the scene in front of him. Dean looked positively livid, eyes flashing when Crowley sauntered into his personal space and shoved him away.

“This is no concern of yours, Winchester,” Crowley said flatly. “Now move along like a good boy and let my fiancé and I resume our argument in peace.”

“Argument? That was straight up abuse!” Dean exclaimed. “No way in hell I’m lettin’ you near him now.”

Crowley grabbed Dean by the shirt and growled, “That is not your choice to make.”

“Don’t you dare put your hands on me!” Dean snarled while he elbowed Crowley away. “And don’t go near Cas either, okay?”

“No...” Cas managed to whisper, but it did nothing to stop Dean from bringing up a fist and knocking it into Crowley’s face as hard as he could.

“Ow!” Crowley keeled over and fell to the ground, clutching his nose between his fingers. “You broke my nose, you bastard!”

“And I’ll break the rest of your body if you don’t leave, now,” Dean threatened in a low voice, walking over to Crowley and pulling him off the ground by the lapels of his jacket. “Do you understand?”

Crowley eyed Dean, then turned back to Cas with disdain in his gaze. “This isn’t over, for either of you,” Crowley whispered under his breath. “You’ll both pay for this.” Then he fought out of Dean’s grip, flipped the collar of his jacket up, and ran away as fast as he could.

When Crowley was out of sight, Dean whistled under his breath. “Holy shit. What the hell was that?”

“You don’t want to know,” Cas rasped as he coughed out the roughness in his vocals. He tried to push himself up, but he crashed to the ground again when dizziness overtook him. Cas head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and his fingers scraped uselessly against the pavement, looking for purchase.

“I think I do,” Dean replied. He traversed over to Cas’s side and offered his hand for Cas to grab. He took it gratefully, and the next thing he knew Cas found himself being hoisted up from the ground and falling into Dean’s arms.

“Easy there,” Dean whispered while he wrapped his arm around Cas’s waist. “You okay to walk?”

“I think so,” Cas mumbled, but one step forward brought everything into a dizzy array of movement and he felt himself trip forward.

“I don’t think you are, buddy,” Dean replied. “We need to get you some ice and a doctor-”

“No doctors,” Cas immediately interrupted, hunched over in pain. “I’ve been through worse than this. I’ll be fine.”

“Like hell you will. You’ve probably got a concussion or somethin’ equally as bad. There’s already bruises forming around your neck. You’ve gotta see a doctor, Cas-”

“No, I really can’t,” Cas interrupted again, this time with a moan accompanying it. “Crowley knows all of the doctors in the area. He’ll know that I went to one and that you brought me there. It’ll be better for both of us if I just tough it out.”

Dean shook his head but didn’t fight him any further. “Fine, but I’m not letting you go without at least gettin’ some ice. C’mon,” he grunted as he picked up Cas and hoisted him into his arms, “we’re going to the Roadhouse.”

“Whoa, I can walk just fine!” Cas called out once he realized that yes, he was indeed being carried through a dark alley in Dean Winchester’s arms like they were newlyweds. “No need to carry me.”

Dean grunted but didn’t let Cas down. “Dude, you almost fell to the ground three times in the past five minutes. I’m carrying you to my car, no exceptions.”

Cas muttered _“I could’ve walked,”_ under his breath as Dean slowly but surely carried him out of the alley and into the main part of campus, but otherwise remained quiet. The pain was beginning to set in from Crowley’s attack, and the only thing he could focus on was the sound of Dean’s steps against the cobblestone walkways, Dean’s heaving breaths as they trekked across the Commons and towards the main parking lot across the street, and the twinge of guilt in his gut from kind of enjoying the sensation of Dean’s arms around his body.

When the entered the parking lot, Dean only let Cas down once he stopped in front of a sleek, black Chevy.

“This is your car?” Cas gawked at the onyx boat and let his hand hover over the pristine chrome.

“Whoa, no touching Baby,” Dean barked out when Cas’s hand barely brushed the surface of the vehicle.

Cas jumped back in alarm and almost stumbled again, but thankfully caught himself before tumbling. He blinked away the black dots before he said, “Baby? Really?”

Dean shrugged and opened the car door for him. ”It fits. Now get in the car before you fall again. You’re not as light as you look.”

He winced when Dean impromptly let him go and he knocked into the car. “As you wish,” he muttered under his breath, then braced himself against the door while he climbed inside.

After they were both buckled in and Cas assured Dean that he wouldn’t pass out in his car, they took off out of the parking lot and careened onto I-98. An easy quiet fell between them as the low crooning of Zeppelin rang out from the Impala’s speakers, and Cas couldn’t hide the grin on his face when Dean began to sing along under his breath to ‘When the Levee Breaks’.

Despite the ache that was beginning to set in deep in his neck and head from Crowley’s attack, Cas, for a brief moment in time, wondered what his life would be like if this was the norm. Instead of long, arduous conversations about the family business, what if he drove through the night with classic rock playing in the background? What would happen if he found the courage to leave Crowley, buy a junker and just live on the road, nothing or no one to keep him down? _Or what if there was someone there with you? What if there was Dean?_

 _No,_ he reprimanded himself. _Don’t think of the impossible._

Just as Cas was beginning to truly despise his untamed hope, Dean pulled up the car at a rundown bar simply called Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

“I know this place,” Cas noted when Dean parked out front. “It’s Jo’s mother’s bar, right?”

Dean got out of the car and graciously opened the door for him. “Correct,” he replied, then reached down to haul Cas out and support him again. “You said that Crowley’s got connections all over town, so I took you out of town. Ellen’ll fix you right up, and then you’re gonna give me answers, buddy.”

Cas could only nod, because his mind went blank when Dean unexpectedly laid a hand on his lower back and guided him forward.

“Wha...I…,” Cas babbled incoherently, but Dean just ignored him they made their way forward and pushed through the Roadhouse’s doors.

When they walked inside, one of the first things Cas observed was that it was dark and nobody was around. The rickety, wooden chairs were already put up on top of the newly waxed tables, all of the alcohol bottles looked like they’d just been realigned behind the bar, and the jukebox in the corner was turned off and unplugged.

“Is anyone even around?” Cas asked when Dean leaned up against a wall for support.

Dean didn’t get to answer before a head popped out from behind the bar.

“Winchester!” a voice yelled brashly. A woman with laughter lines around her face and brunette hair was looking at them with an amused grin, a dirty rag clutched in her hand. “What you think you’re doin’ here this late?”

Dean gestured towards Cas and said, “I need your help, Ellen.”

Ellen turned towards Cas and her eyes widened once she got a good glance at him. “Damn, did you get into a fight with a bear, boy?”

“He was attacked,” Dean explained quickly, and he threw Cas a look that was filled with helplessness and...was that fear on Dean’s face? “He won’t go to a doctor and he’s not doing well-”

“Stop talkin’ and get him to a table,” Ellen interrupted and waved her hand towards a line of vinyl booths in the front. “I’ll get some ice from the back and whiskey for both of ya. You need it.”

Dean nodded and guided Cas over to the nearest booth. The dizziness was back, and the pain was really beginning to set in now that he was walking, but that was being ignored for the gravity of the situation in front of him. It was clear that he wasn’t going to leave this bar without giving Dean answers, but what could he possibly tell him? That his engagement was a farce? That he was being forced into a marriage with an abusive asshat, all because his father was afraid of their fortune falling through? Could he trust Dean with the information he was sworn to keep secret?

He didn’t get to think it over before Ellen swung by and laid two tumblers of whiskey on the rocks down before them with an ice-filled towel, instructing Cas to apply the compress for fifteen minutes before taking a break.

“You holler if you need anythin’, and let me know if he gets any worse. It’s two against one and there’s a hospital a few towns over,” Ellen commented with a friendly smile, then turned on her heel and left without another word.

“Thanks, Ellen!” Dean called after her, and she just waved her hand before turning into the back room, leaving them alone in the quiet.

“I like her,” Cas commented after a quick pause. “I’m guessing you two are close?”

Dean glanced down at his whiskey and picked it up between his fingers. “She’s like family, actually. Married my Uncle Bobby a few years back, and even before that she was best friends with my old man before he passed. Jo and I practically grew up together.”

“No way,” Cas mused, immediately envisioning Dean running around this very bar when he was a kid, probably playing with the jukebox or sneaking shots before he was legal.

“Way,” Dean responded, eyes crinkling when he pulled up old memories. “We vacationed here every summer and came down whenever we got the chance to. Jo and I used to play pool during the day, hustling the regulars who were too drunk to notice that they were getting their ass handed to them by a couple of tweens.”

Dean laughed and Cas did too, but the movement caused him to wince and he was forced to remember why they’re there in the first place.

“So,” Dean hedged as Cas brought the ice up to his head, “it ain’t all roses and wine with Crowley then, huh?”

“Hardly,” Cas mumbled out while he took a sip of his whiskey. “It’s a really long story.”

Dean raised his palms up and leaned his elbows on the table. “Lucky you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Cas put his drink down and relocated the ice pack on his head. Dean was looking at him expectantly, eyes open wide and eyebrows raised. It was time to make his decision, he realized. Could he trust the man in front of him with his life?

 _He just saved your ass, even though you’ve been at each other’s throats for weeks,_ he reminded himself. _Go on._

He chugged the remaining whiskey in his glass before slamming it down on the wood table. Dean jumped back in surprise, but Cas wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy trying to figure out how to tell Dean about Crowley and the life he was about to become a part of. Was it best to just come out and say it, or would it be better to ease Dean into it first?

“Well?” Dean asked after a minute of quiet between them.

 _All in, then_.

Cas pushed the glass away and brought his eyes up to Dean’s. “Before I tell you this, you need to swear secrecy to me. You cannot tell anything you hear today to Sam, Jess, anyone on the cast. I need your word, because what I am about to tell you is extremely dangerous. You’re a part of this now, but your friends can be safe if you keep quiet. Are we clear?”

Dean gaped back at him with hesitation in his eyes, but eventually shook his head in understanding. “I won’t tell anyone. Now spill.”

Cas took a deep breath before beginning, curling his fingers into a fist. _You can do this_ , he told himself. _You can trust Dean._

“I’m in an arranged marriage,” Cas spat out, quicker than he would’ve liked. Dean’s eyes lit up before him, but he held up his hand. “Please, let me explain uninterrupted.”

Dean gestured in Cas’s direction and took a swig of whiskey. “Go on, then.”

Cas sighed before continuing, fingers playing with the condensation on his glass. “Have you ever heard of Novak Farms?”

“Heard of them? They’re the biggest food distribution corporation in America, Cas. Everyone’s heard of-” Dean paused, the connection coming together. “Wait...you’re a Novak? One of _the_ Novaks?”

“Affirmative,” Cas replied curtly. “The one and only Castiel Novak, heir to the Novak fortune and only child of Charles Novak. And if you know of my family’s company, then you probably also know that we’re a year off from declaring total bankruptcy.”

Dean whistled under his breath and brought his whiskey up to his lips. “That’s...that’s…” Dean didn’t finish before chugging the alcohol, then he too knocked the glass against their table loudly. “So you’re practically American royalty. What are you doing at Lawrence U then? Don’t you have a company to run or something like that?”

He cringed noticeably and adjusted the ice pack once again. This was the difficult part, and it took everything in him to say it.

“After I graduate, Fergus Crowley and I are set to marry,” Cas began, fingers tracing patterns on the tabletop to distract him from what he was about to say. “Crowley’s mother, Rowena MacLeod, is CEO of Coven Food Distribution in England. They’re going to bail us out of debt, but only if I marry Crowley first and merge our businesses. Even then, Crowley will be running the show. I’m just supposed to sit back and be his lap dog,” he spat with venom in his voice, his bitterness about the situation fully coming to a head.

“My life was never supposed to be this way, you know,” Cas said tensely, dropping the ice pack to the table to grab the whiskey tumbler between his palms instead. Anger began to convulse in his gut, images of that fatal day when his entire future was ripped from his hands coming to the forefront of his mind. “I was supposed to go to Juilliard, work on my art and leave my father’s company behind, but he just had to go and sink all of our money into his gambling addiction. I came home with an acceptance letter in hand, and left it with a marriage license and a vile, abusive fiance.”

“That’s terrible,” Dean whispered under his breath. “That’s-”

“Disgusting? Immoral? Wrong? I can name a thousand synonyms for what it is,” Cas exclaimed, his entire body reacting to the anger he’d long put away. “And why? For what? This marriage only has a fifty-fifty chance of saving the company. Crowley’s mother may be rich, but even she might not be able to bail us out! Why is this on me, Dean?” He clutched the tumbler tighter when his father’s apologetic face came into his mind, tired and worn down from decades of disappointing his only child. His fingers curled around the glass, tighter, tighter, tighter as he was forced to relive looking into Crowley’s dull eyes that first time, kissing his tiny mouth as a sign of his loyalty, taking his punches when things didn’t go his way. He felt _livid_ , and it all came to a head when the glass between his fingers broke in his grip, shattering all over the table and onto the tile floor.

“Whoa, Cas, you gotta calm down!” Dean yelled when Cas hissed at the new sting of pain in his palm. “Take it easy, okay?”

“How can I when I’m destined to this life?” Cas asked. He noticed red on the table and brought his palm up to his face, then turned it towards Dean. “How can I be okay when this is considered normal?”

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean whispered as he took Cas’s hand in his own. He grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser and began dabbing up the damage Cas caused. “There’s got to be a way out of it, right? A loophole? What’s your mom got to say about all of this?”

Cas snorted and turned his lips down into a sarcastic grimace. “Please. She left the day I was born. Didn’t even stick around long enough to name me. As soon as the doctors declared her ready to leave, she ditched me and my father at the hospital. All I know of her is a note she wrote for my father the day she left him. Apparently she knew of his penchant for gambling and didn’t want to live with it. I don’t know anything about her, and she clearly wants nothing to do with me at all.

“That only leaves my father, and he’s indebted to Rowena. And there’s no loopholes with Rowena. If I back out then not only will Novak Farms go under, Coven Food will go down with it. We’re tied financially now, and Rowena already isn’t fond of me for putting off the wedding.” He paused, a cold shiver slipping down his neck when he recalled the consequences Crowley’s mother laid out before him all those years ago. ”If I back out, I will be eradicated.”

He curled his fingers into a fist and yelped when pain laced through his wound.

“Okay, that’s it. Ellen!” Dean called loudly, and she came running out of the back room faster than he thought possible.

“What happened now?” she exclaimed when her gaze landed on the broken glass.

“Can we get water and some bandages? Oh, and bring alcohol too. We’re going to disinfect it,” Dean said.

Ellen nodded and turned back towards the bar, grabbing a pitcher of water, a clean rag, and a bottle of Jack Daniels to round out the supply run. “If you’re not gonna let us take you to a hospital, you’re gonna have to settle for the old fashioned way of healin’, I guess.”

Cas gaped at the alcohol bottle and then flicked his gaze back to Dean. “You are kidding, right?”

“‘Fraid not,” Dean replied as he twisted off the cap and pushed the bottle aside. Ellen watched from the sidelines as Dean dipped the cloth in water and began cleaning the red from Cas’s skin. “Works like a charm, though. When Sam and I were around here as kids, we used to get scrapes and nicks too often for Ellen to justify going to an ER, so she went with what she grew up with. Good ol’ Jack will clean that just as good as any doctor can.”

“I doubt that,” Cas muttered as Dean finished with the first round of water, then cringed when he grabbed the bottle from the edge of the table. “Don’t you have Neosporin?”

Ellen laughed from the bar and pointed her rag in his direction. “Hon, the day I carry Neosporin is the day pigs fly. Now brace yourself. This is gonna get you howlin’ like a dog in labor.”

Cas squinted back at her. “What kind of analo-,” he began, but he did not get to finish before pain, deeper and harsher than anything he’d experienced that day laced through his wound and body. “Crap crap crap! What the-.”

“All done!” Dean capped the bottle and wrapped Cas’s hand in the cloth before laying it down on the table. “Ellen, can you grab some band-aids? I want it wrapped up well now that it’s clean.”

Ellen nodded in their direction and then turned on her heel toward the back room. “I’ll be back in five,” she said, throwing her towel on the bar before leaving them alone.

When Cas turned back to Dean, he was grinning widely and a twinkle was in his eyes. “So?” he asked.

“So what?” Cas responded, a little taken aback by the unexpected bitterness in his voice.

“How do you feel?” Dean asked. “Better?”

“Worse, actually.” Cas glared down at his hand and picked at the makeshift wrap absentmindedly. “I feel like I’m on fire, thank you very much.”

Dean laughed and opened the bottle again, offering it to Cas. “Drink. It’ll take the edge off a bit.”

Cas didn’t need to be told twice. He brought the glass to his lips and sipped at the whiskey, wincing when the sting ran down his throat and settled in his belly. He pushed it back towards Dean and he too took a swig, lips hovering above the edge of the bottle’s rim as the alcohol cascaded into his mouth. And was it just him, or was that really, really suggestive?

“Bandages!” Ellen called, breaking up his thought process. He turned just in time to watch her toss it across the room, the box arcing through the air perfectly before landing in front of him. “Just be sure it’s clean. If it infects, then your boy’s gonna have no choice but to go to a doctor.” She walked out from behind the bar and leaned on the back of her heels, hand perched on her hip. “Now, are you boys okay to shut things down in here when you leave? I ain’t your age anymore and I’m about to fall asleep on my feet.”

Dean waved her away and put the Jack down. “Please go home, Ellen. Thanks for everything you’ve done tonight.”

She brought her fingers up in a salute and trekked towards the exit, turning off a few lights on her way out. “It’s been a pleasure. Bring your friends around more often, boy, and preferably when they’re not, y’know, beaten up.”

“Will do,” he responded, and then after a few more pleasantries between them, Ellen pushed out the exit and waved goodbye.

Easy quiet fell around them after the click of the door rang out. Cas began unwrapping the cloth on his hand while Dean pulled out one of Ellen’s ginormous bandages, and this time, Cas didn’t whine when Dean wiped down his wound with another round of whiskey. After bringing it up to the light to be sure there were no glass shards in it, Dean ripped off the protective cover of the band-aid and laid it flat on his palm.

“Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Dean asked when he balled up the paper remains and lobbed them into the nearest trash can.

“Do I get a sticker for good behavior now?” Cas deadpanned, and Dean threw his head back in laughter.

“No, but how about another round, huh? You’ve gotta still be hurtin’ a ton.”

Cas didn’t deny it. His entire body was throbbing now, Crowley’s damage finally aching deep in his bones. He was thankful when Dean got up from the table and walked over to the bar, rummaging through the bottles slowly, carefully, until he landed on one that made his eyes light up.

“Oh damn, I think it’s time to bring out the good stuff, don’t you think?” Dean grabbed two glasses from the counter and walked back over with a frosted vessel with pink liquid inside.

Cas gaped back at him and squinted his eyes. “Is that Kinky?”

Dean smirked and plucked the cap off the bottle, then poured a shot into one of the glasses. “If you ever tell Sammy about this, I’ll find you and eat you alive. It’s a guilty pleasure and he’ll never let me live it down if he finds out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Cas said as he took the shot from Dean, and then raised it in the air. “Cheers.”

They clinked their glasses together and tossed back the glass. This went down a lot better than the whiskey, Cas noted, and it didn’t take long for him to take the bottle from Dean and pour himself another round of it. Dean laughed when Cas filled his glass to the brink, then shoved his tumbler over for a refill too.

The two of them fell into easy banter when Dean drank his round too fast and spat it out all over the table, causing another bout of laughs to break out between them. Somehow that led to confessing their most embarrassing moments, where Cas learned that Dean once kissed a girl in preschool and was suspended for a week, and Dean learned about the time Cas forgot his lines during the school play of _Grease_ in high school and ran off the stage. They talked about their castmates, Sam and Jess’s awesome script, and a solution to Cas’s pitch problems in ‘Sparkling Diamonds.’ It was easy, Cas realized after a moment of silence came between them. _Too easy._

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Cas questioned while Dean was reshelving the Jack and Kinky behind the bar.

Dean quirked his eyebrow up at him in question as he walked back over. “What?”

“I asked why you’re being so nice to me,” Cas repeated. “It’s not like I deserve it or anything. I’ve been a jerk to you from the beginning of this production and yet you saved me, patched me up, and got me a little drunk. Why?”

He watched as Dean uncomfortably slid into the booth and avoided eye contact. “Back when I was little,” he began, clearly thinking of how to phrase something delicately, “I was bullied. A lot, actually. Mostly because I was a runt as a kid, and then when I was older and out as bi, they targeted me for that, too. And every day I’d come home from school, just wishing that I could be mean back. Give them a taste of their own medicine, and all that.”

“So why didn’t you?” Cas questioned.

Dean shrugged, eyes trained on the tabletop before bringing his gaze up to Cas’s. “Mom always said that they weren’t worth it, and that by being kind, maybe they’d learn to be kind back. And you know what? On some of them, it actually worked. I didn’t get along with this kid named Nick back then, and when he was bullying me I just ignored him for a long while, but one day he cornered me and asked why I wasn’t fighting back. I told him that I was, in my own way. We talked for three hours that afternoon, and when we were done, he apologized and asked if we could be friends. Now we’re like brothers, and it wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t listen to my mom’s advice.”

Cas frowned at the table and played with a lone napkin from the dispenser. “I guess I need to thank your mother for saving my life, then. Without you there, I don’t know what would’ve happened...if I...” He trailed off and brought his eyes up to Dean’s. “You are a good man, Dean. I do hope you know that, and I’m sorry that I was terrible to you for those first few weeks.”

Dean let his nail run over a crevice in the wood as he muttered, “Uh, I guess I need to apologize, too. Sorry I manhandled you outside the theater. That was wrong.”

Cas shrugged, remembering the way Dean crowded into his personal space and pushed him around. “To be honest? I deserved that, and it’s not like I’m not used to it.”

Dean perked up at that and caught his gaze, eyes filled with an expression Cas couldn’t pinpoint. Indecision? Regret? All of the above?

“Yeah, uh, can I ask you a question?” Dean asked, breaking Cas’s concentration. “Why were you a jerk? I mean, I get that things are terrible with Crowley. Was I just a target?”

Cas froze in his chair, because this he was not expecting. Of course he owed Dean an explanation on that too, but what could he tell him? That he’s had a crush on him since freshman year of college? He doubted that would go over well. Dean was a nice guy, and clearly out and proud for who he was, but how on earth could Cas just come out and admit to thinking about him every time he walked through the halls of Thompson Center, or saw the Phantom cape in the costume closet? Was there a way to tell Dean that when he kissed Crowley at night, sometimes he envisioned green eyes instead of brown ones? Even thinking it made Cas want to run until he reached the next state over, because really, how more embarrassing could it get?

And yet...maybe it was the drinks, or the dim lighting, or maybe it was a bout of courage he didn’t know he had, but Cas wanted Dean to know the truth.

“That’s not why I was an ass to you,” Cas replied slowly, trying not to blurt out the words that have been holed up inside of him for years. “The reason I pushed you away was so that you wouldn’t like me. I couldn’t risk getting involved, not when Crowley is already viscerally jealous of you as is.”

Cas watched Dean put it all together, and he folded his hands together as Dean’s mouth fell open. “You like me,” he said plainly.

“Yes,” Cas whispered lowly and looked away. “And I can’t. And I shouldn’t, but I do. I like you.”

“You like me,” Dean repeated quietly. “You _like_ me? Why?”

Cas’s eyes snapped up to Dean’s at that. “Why?”

“Yeah, why?” Dean asked. “I’m not worth it, Cas, I’m tellin’ you that right now. I’m just a grunt who couldn’t make it in the big leagues, and after I’m done here, I’ll probably still be living with Sam because there’s nowhere else that I need to be. I’m just worth-”

“Don’t you even think about saying worthless, Dean,” Cas snapped back. How could Dean not see how incredible he was, how many people he’d helped over the years? Without his performance in _Phantom_ , Cas never would’ve auditioned for the role of Fiyero the following year in _Wicked_. It was the way Dean owned the stage that made Cas fall in love with theatre and find the courage not to just be a stagehand anymore. And it wasn’t just Cas, either. Dean was the one who was there when Jo forgot her lines during rehearsal and talked her through it, when Garth was being picked on by Ruby and he told her to back off. He was there, always there, helping people even though he didn’t even know it. How could Dean not realize how absolutely needed he was by not just Cas, but everyone?

“You’re so important, Dean,” Cas began, trying to put emphasis behind every word. “You’re noble, and good, and help people. You never saw me during _Phantom,_ but I saw you. Remember when Lisa Braeden’s son got lost and ended up in the wings during intermission?”

Dean froze before him and a pink blush rose to his cheeks. “I thought no one was around for that,” he muttered, then brought a hand up to run through his hair.

“Please. Stagehands are always around. You should know that,” Cas teased with a glint in his eye before turning sober again. “I saw you consoling him while he was crying. It was five minutes before we reopened and you probably wanted to do vocal warm ups, but instead you got Ben back to his mother and slid into place just in time for curtain. I thought it was incredible. No one else would’ve given up their warm ups to help out a lost kid like that. Ruby sure didn’t, and she blatantly saw Ben first.”

Dean turned his eyes away from Cas and focused on the light above their heads. “That’s just common courtesy, Cas. Nothin’ to develop a crush over.”

“You’re insane if you think that was when I started liking you,” Cas snorted out.

“That wasn’t it? Then when?”

Cas fiddled with the napkin dispenser and felt a blush rising to his cheeks, too. “Since the first time you sang ‘The Music of the Night’.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh. His eyes wheeled around the room, looking at the pool table, the jukebox, anything but Cas, before he whispered, “Cas, that was the song I auditioned with.”

“I know,” Cas muttered, eyes downcast and a little embarrassed now. “You’re impossibly captivating. The minute you got on stage and let out the first notes, I was a goner.”

Dean whistled lowly, clearly trying to take everything in. He waited, quiet once again coming between them. Briefly, Cas wondered if he admitted too much. Dean looked highly uncomfortable, biting his lip and clinging onto the edge of the table like it was a lifeboat and he was a man lost at sea. He chastised himself for being so abrupt. Now what was going to happen? Would the production now suffer because of Cas’s confession? Could they work professionally after all of this?

He was just about to make a run for it when Dean reached over and timidly brushed his fingers over the back of Cas’s hand. He froze in place, eyes darting up to Dean’s in a frantic motion. What was going on?

“Cas...I would be lyin’ if I said that I didn’t feel something these past few weeks,” he said in barely a whisper, index finger tapping against Cas’s knuckle nervously. “Yeah, most of the time it was me bitching about you, but there was somethin’ else, too. And it scared the crap out of me. One day you’re just a face and the next you’re in everything I see. It’s bizarre.” He paused, perching his bottom lip between his teeth. “And now, knowing that you’ve been there this whole time and I just never got my head out of my ass long enough to notice pisses me off. You know, you talk a big game about how I’m important, but you’re damn important too, Cas. Don’t let Crowley tell you otherwise.”

Cas gulped as warmth spread throughout his cheeks, causing him to look away in fear. The things Dean was saying to him were impossible. Cas wasn’t important. Not really, anyway. Just a cog in an ancient wheel, destined to be a lap dog for a disgusting, pitiful excuse of a man. How could Dean loving, caring, amazing, incredibly brave Winchester care an ounce about him at all?

“What’re you implying?” Cas said after a long pause between them.

He couldn’t recall exactly when, but somehow between the crush confession and Dean’s hand on his, they’d leaned into each other’s spaces. Dean was so close, it would be easy to rock forward a tiny bit, just enough for his lips to touch Dean’s and claim the kiss he’d been dreaming about for years. He almost did it...almost, but Dean’s words roared through him instead and left him gaping in awe.

“What I’m saying is that if circumstances were different, I’d be asking you out to dinner right now. I’d take you right here, probably, and we’d have a couple of drinks, eat some food, and if we really hit it off I’d take you for a ride in Baby, maybe kiss you if it was goin’ well. Then we’d meet again, date a little, go back to my place and probably sleep together. Maybe we’d go official. We’d walk around town together, I’d introduce you to all my friends and Uncle Bobby, too. Maybe we’d make it. Maybe we’d move in together and live out an apple pie life with a white picket fence, or maybe we wouldn’t and a nasty breakup would go down.” He paused and Cas was frozen in place, clutching the table to contain himself. “But we will never know, will we?”

Cas bit his lip and turned away, trying to hide his dismay. “Yes, I suppose we’ll never know,” he replied. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? There in the bar, Cas felt like a live wire was connecting him and Dean. The tension was palpable, but not like it was in the theater during one of their fights. It was what he always imagined what pure, unbridled connection would feel like, and Cas already felt himself getting addicted to the warmth spreading through him whenever Dean caught his eye from across the table or bumped his knee against Cas’s. And yet, he could never fully have it. Crowley would find out, Rowena would come after Cas, and Dean would get caught in the middle of it all. It wasn’t something that he could risk, and yet a tiny, foolish part of himself wanted to more than anything.

“I can offer you something else, though,” Dean said, bringing Cas back to the conversation. He grinned at Cas and held out his hand. “We can be friends. What’d you say to that?”

It was not what Cas wanted, not at all, but he wasn’t going to let Dean go just because he couldn’t have him in the way he wanted. “I accept,” he conceded, shaking Dean’s hand in solidarity.

Dean laughed and pulled away after a few moments. “Good, because fightin’ with you is exhausting, you know that?”

Cas snickered back, but winced when a shot of pain laced through his body. Between the weight of his conversation with Dean and distraction from the alcohol, Cas completely forgot that he was injured. Now, he realized that his entire body hurt, and drinking hadn’t helped matters at all.

“As your first favor as my friend, can you take me to a doctor?” Cas asked when a pinprick pain laced through his temple. “I think I could have a concussion.”

Dean winked coyly at him and got up from the booth, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, so now you wanna go to a doctor?”

Cas glared at him from under his eyelashes. “Don’t push your luck, Winchester.”

Dean laughed once, but immediately sobered up once Cas practically fell out of the booth, dizziness coming over him once again. “Easy there, tiger,” Dean teased with playful eyes. “I know I’m attractive and all, but you don’t need to faint in my presence.”

Cas rolled his eyes as Dean slung his arm over Cas’s shoulders and carefully walked him towards the doorway, elbowing through and hitting the lights on the way out. “Is this what being friends with you is like? If it is, I’m reconsidering.”

“What? You’re sick of me already?” Dean joked as he fished the keys to the Impala out of his pocket and clicked it open. Like earlier, he padded over to Cas’s side of the car and gently got him inside, even going as far as buckling him in before patting him on the shoulder. “But really, are you okay?”

 _No,_ Cas thought. _Far from it_ , but that was a conversation for another time. “I’m fine,” Cas said with a smile, and that appeased Dean enough. He quickly shrugged before closing the door and climbing in the other side, the ignition roaring to life beneath them like an enraged beast. He took off faster than Cas would’ve advised, but the throbbing pain was distracting and Cas could barely focus on the racing pavement in front of them.

The low tones of Zeppelin filled the car as they sped out of city limits, then across Fall Leaf, Linwood, and Toganoxie to boot. Zeppelin faded into AC/DC, which faded into a few Queen tunes as they careened onto I-16. Cas wondered exactly which hospital they were going to once they hit a tiny town called Brexonville, because while Cas wasn’t joking about Crowley’s connections, this was a bit excessive.

“Where-” Cas asked, but quieted when he began listening to the notes crooning from the radio. “You are not listening to ‘One Year of Love’, right?”

Dean smirked and revved the Impala faster down the freeway, turning up the volume as the chorus came blaring through the car. “Queen is legendary, Cas. You can’t not like this song. It’s inhuman.”

“I never said I didn’t like it. Actually, I used to listen to this all the time in high school,” he retorted. When Freddie’s voice echoed through the loudspeakers, Cas quietly began singing along. “ _It's always a rainy day without you, I'm a prisoner of love inside you. I'm falling apart all around you...yeah._ ”

“ _My heart cries out to your heart, I'm lonely but you can save me. My hand reaches out for your hand, I'm cold but you light the fire in me_ ,” Dean crooned next to him. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and turned off onto an exit, the blaring lights of a hospital coming into view. “ _My lips search for your lips,_

 _I'm hungry for your touch!_ ”

“ _There's so much left unspoken!_ ” Cas jumped in, “ _And all I can do is surrender to the moment, just surrender._ ”

An instrumental began to play while Cas and Dean came to a stoplight, and for a brief moment in time, Cas felt a lightness within him that he hadn’t felt in ages. Dean was giggling and smiling widely, and Cas couldn’t help but laugh along as the light turned green and they sped off, right as the next line came through the speakers.

“ _And no one ever told me that love would hurt so much-,_ ” Dean sang while waving his hand in the air.

“ _Oooh yes it hurts!_ ” Cas crooned next to him, and Dean almost didn’t make it through the next line.

“ _And pain...is so close...to pleasure_ ,” he got out between giggles, and Cas cackled next to him.

“ _And all I can do is surrender to your love, just surrender to your love_ ,” Cas finished off.

The rest of the car ride went that way, with Dean and Cas singing along as they raced through downtown. When the song came to a close and Dean pulled up in front of Nortonville Community Hospital, the two of them were laughing loudly and Cas had to brace himself against the dash, fighting off the punch of pain that came with every giggle.

It didn’t take long for a nurse to come running over with a wheelchair once they exited the Impala, frantically asking what happened and how they could help. Cas pushed the giddiness from the car ride aside as he artfully formulated a fake story about a bar fight gone wrong, citing a drunk man fishing for cash that he didn’t get a good look at. The nurse nodded along as she wheeled him into the hospital and attached a wristband to his arm, but there was a twinkle in her eye that alluded to her doubting his explanation.

She didn’t outwardly question it though, and instead left him and Dean alone in the drab waiting area while she went to find a doctor. Dean plopped down into one of the green vinyl chairs and pulled out his phone, and Cas saw him hunt and peck a text to Sam about leaving the apartment door open.

“I’m sorry,” Cas apologized quietly, and Dean’s eyes flicked over to him.

“For what?” he asked.

“For being a nuisance. If you weren’t in that alley you’d be home by now-”

“And you’d have been Crowley’s punching bag, or worse. Don’t apologize, Cas. Please. Besides, that sing-along in the car was pretty epic.”

Cas laughed and curled his fingers around the wheelchair arms when pain pricked through him again. “It was,” he agreed, then immediately thought of something brilliant. “That should be our song!” Cas exclaimed boisterously, causing a few people to look over from the nurses’ desk.

Dean glanced over at him, brow furrowed down into a confused line. “Our song? Like a ‘Come What May’ thing?”

Cas blushed at the reference and nodded along. “Yes, exactly like that. Whenever we need one another, we’ll just sing ‘One Year of Love’.”

“We can text the lyrics to one another too,” Dean mused as his eyes widened with ideas. “And during rehearsal, we can just randomly break out in song and no one will know what it means besides us, okay?”

“Use it on the good days, use it on the bad. It’s a song for when you need a friend,” Cas said, trying not to crack on the last word.

Dean nodded and clapped his hands together. “Okay, that’s it. ‘One Year of Love’ is our song from now on. And no one can know about it, understand? It needs to be our thing.”

“Noted,” Cas replied just as the nurse came back with a doctor next to her, a man with blonde hair and a low, black v-neck underneath his lab coat. He also couldn’t help but notice that the doctor was looking at him like he was something to eat, and Cas blushed under his gaze.

“Castiel?” he said as he looked down at his forms.

“That’s me,” Cas replied with the wave of his hand.

The doctor grinned down at him and said, “I’m Doctor Roché, but please, call me Balthazar. Doctor Roché is way too formal,” he said in a British accent and held out his hand towards Cas.

Cas looked him over while they shook hands. Balthazar was an attractive man with chiseled abs beneath his tight t-shirt and firm hands. He felt himself gaping, and it took a low cough from Dean to get him coherent again.

“Yes, um, it’s nice to meet you,” Cas stammered out, and Balthazar just laughed as he walked around the back and grabbed onto the chair handles with one hand, and put the other on Cas’s shoulder.

“We’ll fix you up. You’re in very _capable_ hands,” Balthazar practically purred, and was it just Cas or did he emphasize capable like an euphemism?

“Doctor Roché will take you back now,” the nurse- Hannah, her name tag read- said jovially. Then she turned to Dean and explained, “Unfortunately, since your friend isn’t family, he needs to stay in the waiting area.”

Cas turned to Dean and whoa, he looked pissed off. His friend was practically glaring up at Balthazar like he was a bug on his boot, and when Cas felt Balthazar’s hand tighten on him while he talked to Hannah, Dean leaned forward into a protective stance, almost like he was going to rip Balthazar’s palm off of Cas’s body.

“It’s fine,” Cas whispered under his breath.

“He’s got his hands all over you. That’s not professional,” Dean muttered as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the nearest wall.

Cas was going to retort, but Balthazar turned and asked if he was ready to be taken back.

“With pleasure,” Cas replied, then glanced at Dean again. “You’ll be here when I return?”

Dean snorted like it was the worst question ever. “Of course. I’m not gonna leave you behind.”

“Then I’ll see you soon,” Cas said.

Balthazar pushed him forward and trekked down an impeccably clean hallway. He began talking about a patient he had earlier in the day who came in with a terrible bee sting behind him, citing redness and other things that Cas really didn’t want to know about. He nodded along and hummed at the right times, but was absentmindedly glancing behind him every five seconds instead of really investing himself in his doctor’s story. Right before they rounded the corner and out of sight, Cas saw Dean practically fuming in his chair, sending dirty looks at Balthazar’s back.

He couldn’t believe it. Unless he really was socially incompetent like Gabe would like him to believe, he was positive that Dean was _jealous_. But how? Why? Did they not just agree that nothing could happen between them? It was too way too much to handle at the time, so Cas just sighed and listened to Balthazar wax poetic about the proper use of bandages instead, trying desperately to forget about Dean, the car ride, their new friendship, and everything they could never have between them.


	12. Chapter 12

Off. That’s what this rehearsal was, Sam thought to himself. Off. 

It was a feeling that hit him the moment he walked into the theater that day. Jess was already getting the staging ready for their runthrough of ‘Your Song’ when he arrived, blonde curls bouncing as she excitedly marked the stage with masking tape. It was an odd sight, because it was 8:30 AM on a Saturday, and he’d never seen Jess anything less than zombie-like before noon. If that wasn’t weird enough, everyone else was acting strangely, too. As the cast began to filter in and rehearsal officially began, he noticed that Anna and Jo were eyeing each other harshly from across the room. He was taken aback, because as long as they’ve been a couple, Sam had never witnessed them fight. Benny was snappy too, and even Gabriel wasn’t his usual, borderline obnoxious self. 

And yet, the feeling of unease went beyond subtle amounts of oddity from his cast. Something was fundamentally changed from the last time they met, and Sam couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. 

“Okay, let’s take that scene from the top!” Sam called from the floor while Jess moved the actors into different positions. “Remember, instead of the elephant room, Christian and Satine will be meeting in an expensive hotel room. Try to imagine a bed that you’ll be crawling on, Cas, and Dean, try to act more afraid than you’re doing now.” 

He took a few steps back to get the whole stage in view, and that’s when it hit him like a pile of bricks. Sam’s eyes scanned the room one minute, but then they were frozen on Cas and Dean when he witnessed them talking closely with one another. When they backed away, there was a clear impishness between them, from the way Dean knocked into Cas’s shoulder, or the way Cas smiled down at the floor when he did it. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sam muttered to himself as Jess called action. He watched, completely transfixed as Dean and Cas fell into character and performed the scene better than ever. Cas playfully pushed Dean around as Satine, trying to seduce the young writer into his bed, while Dean completely nailed Christian’s confusion while he tried to recite the lines to ‘Your Song’. And by the time the scene was over and Satine was angrily pushing Christian away because he’s not who he claimed to be, Sam was about ready to give them a standing-o right there. 

But then they ended the scene and Sam was way too busy watching Dean and Cas congratulate each other to do anything else but gape in open confusion. What could’ve changed between them over the course of a weekend? 

... _Oh no._

“Dean?” Sam exclaimed as he ran to the front of the stage. “Can I talk to you? In private?” 

Dean glanced down at him and shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be right back,” he said as he turned to Cas, and then hopped down from the stage and wandered over to the sidelines. Sam followed, but pulled Dean out the side door and into the lobby. There was no way he wanted anyone else to overhear this conversation. 

“Dude, what the-”

“Did you sleep with Cas?” Sam hissed under his breath as he maneuvered Dean further into the depths of the lobby. 

Dean twisted his lips down into a frown and crossed his arms over his chest. “What? No! Of course not!” 

“Really? Because just last week you were ranting about ripping his hair out and what an asshole he is, and now you two are tied at the hip. What gives? Did…” he trailed off, remembering that night Dean didn’t come home until the sun was rising above the horizon. “Did you sleep with him after rehearsal? How long? Dean, you know he’s engaged, right? Wha-” 

“Whoa, calm down!” Dean grabbed Sam’s arm and dragged him into a corner. “Listen,” he whispered, “I didn’t sleep with Cas, okay? I found him...uh...hurt, when I came out of rehearsal, and when I helped him we got to talkin’. He’s actually great, once you get to know him.” 

Sam squinted his eyes at his brother and leaned back on his heels. There was something in Dean’s voice, a note of omission that had him incredibly suspicious, but it wasn’t something he had the time to ponder. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it, but please, for the love of all things good, _do not sleep with Cas._ ”

“Do you want an oath? _I promise not to sleep with Cas_ ,” he said in a sarcastic tone, and Sam just sighed. His brother was a pain in the ass sometimes, but when he threw those puppy eyes at Sam, he couldn’t resist smiling back. 

“I will hold you to that,” he emphasized, finger coming up to point at Dean’s chest. “I don’t need affairs to deal with, or angry fiancés interrupting my rehearsals.” He paused, taking in his brother’s uneasy expression before changing his tone. “Look, I trust you. I really do. And I’m happy that you two worked out your problems and are friends. I feel a lot better now that my two leads actually, you know, like each other,” he said with a weak smile. 

Dean nodded back and began walking back towards the theater door. He brushed his forehead with the top of his hand and called out, “Everything’s gonna be fine, Sammy!” 

Sam sighed loudly as he followed his brother into the auditorium. Things were looking up, and he just hoped that they could stay that way.


	13. Chapter 13

As the tail end of fall slid into winter, Cas felt everything changing around him. It wasn’t just the bitter chill that was now nipping at his nose as he walked through the city, or the fallen leaves crunching beneath his boots. The changes went beyond the snowy season that had begun, white, fluffy droplets plopping against the windshield of the bus as they commuted to and from class, or the anxiety levels all around campus as midterms creeped up and the library began to fill with bustling, sleep deprived students.

No, the changes Cas felt were all inside those four walls of the Thompson Center auditorium, and he couldn’t be happier with them. What once was a place of fear and trying to keep up a facade had flourished into a second home. With Dean’s friendship and the tension eased, Cas felt safer than ever. He could be exactly himself when he was at rehearsal, no longer trying to put on a mask of a man whom he never wished to be.

The only blight on his otherwise overly content mood was Crowley, as always. After the fight in the alley, he’d avoided the apartment for a few days. Dean dropped him off at his friend Hester’s house just on the outskirts of the city after he was released from the hospital with instructions to take it easy and let the wounds heal naturally, and crashed on her couch under the disguise as a disgruntled fiancé who was fed up with Crowley’s long hours at the office. Hester, bless her, was kind enough not to question him and instead offered him food and a place to shower for a week before she left for a missionary trip to Tibet. After that though, Cas knew that he had to face his fiancé, no matter what would happen. This was his life, after all. No changing it, no making it better. He was Crowley’s. End of story.

The day he walked home with his tail between his legs like the dog Crowley took him for, Cas braced for the worst. He didn’t talk to Crowley for a week, and who knew what kind of new punches or insults he could’ve concocted during that time. When he came up to their apartment door, he almost turned back around. Another day, that was all. One more day of bliss before a whole new batch of injuries, physical and emotional, came down upon him.

But just as he was about to run away like a scared child, the door flew open and Crowley blanched back at him with wide, open eyes before curling his mouth up into that telltale smirk he always wore.

“Well, look at that. The prodigal son returns after all,” he mocked with his hands on his hips. “You had me worried for awhile, Castiel.”

He turned his gaze to the ground and tried to push past Crowley, but his fiancé curled his fingers around his arm and practically dragged Cas into the apartment, nails digging into his flesh and causing pain to flash.

The door slammed behind him and the next thing Cas knew, Crowley had him crowded against the back of the couch and his breath was breathing down his neck, hot and heavy.

“If you try to run again, I will call Mother and get an order to take you and your lousy father down. I am getting fed up with your attitude, especially when I’ve decided to let you perform in that bloody musical you’re so entranced with,” he growled as he pushed Cas away.

Cas gaped back at him, half out of fear and half out of pure incredulousness.

“You’re okay with the musical?” Cas asked cautiously, because this was beyond anything he could’ve imagined. Crowley left him bandaged and bruised on the ground over his role just a week ago. What changed?

Crowley eyed Cas harshly and pulled out an unlit cigarette and his infamous pure gold lighter from his pocket. He perched it between his teeth as he replied, “Oh, it is not me who is allowing this, Castiel.” He lit the cigarette and his eyes fluttered shut as the first wave of smoke blew from his mouth, then grabbed it from his lips before continuing. “I confided in my mother when you ran, and she thinks it’s a great idea. Always a lover of the arts, that one. Anyway, she believes that it would be a good pre-wedding activity, a thank you of sorts, at the expense of my happiness, of course. As long as I get no indication that you are engaging with Winchester outside of that theater, you will be allowed to keep your role. Consider it Rowena’s gift to you.”

Cas felt the early flutterings of hope within his belly. He was positive that when he returned to Crowley, his days in Sam’s theatre production would be over. This small kindness from Rowena, who was anything but kind, fueled him with a lightness he hadn’t experienced in years.

“Tell Rowena I appreciate her gift next time you speak to her,” Cas said as he carefully toed away from Crowley.

Crowley waved his hand as he blew out another puff of smoke. “I will, next time I get her on the phone. She’s a busy woman, you know. Trying to save your ghastly father’s company is turning out to be quite the pain in her arse.”

Cas rolled his eyes at Crowley’s jibe as walked back to his bedroom, grinning ear to ear the entire way. He could fulfill the role he always wanted and get to work with Dean? There was nothing that could bring him down.

At least, that’s what he thought at the time.

A few weeks went by with no troubles. His classes were turning out easier than he thought they’d be, and Crowley was gone most nights, busy making deals in downtown Kansas City for his mother’s business. His crush on Dean was slowly but surely fading into the background, he noticed, an appreciation for the friendship they had formed taking precedence. For once in his life, Cas felt fully and wholly content.

Of course, every good thing had to end, and his undoing came at the hands of a love song.

“A little change to the schedule today,” Sam announced as he wandered back and forth in front of the cast, still sleepy-eyed and groggy from being up so early. “We’re going to begin with Dean and Cas only, so the rest of you can take a breakfast break before we go into full ensemble for ‘Hindi Sad Diamonds’ in a little bit.”

Nobody dared question it; they all got up and raced for the door, clearly ready to get another hour of sleep in before they needed to be back. Cas envied them; it was seven in the morning after all, and the coffee he’d downed earlier did nothing to drive the tiredness from his bones. He already had taken three of his midterms earlier in the week, and his nights had been filled with conjugating verbs from both German and Spanish for his foreign languages exam that afternoon. He was beat, and just the sound of Sam’s overly chipper voice made him want to be anywhere but there.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his body. “I thought the whole reason we were rehearsing this early was so everyone could be here before midterms this afternoon.”

Sam flicked through a pile of papers while he replied, “I know, but last night Jess came up with a brilliant idea. What would really put us above the other contestants is including an original song, and we were up most of the night putting this together.” He pulled out a few pages of sheet music for him and Dean.

Cas took it from Sam’s grasp and eyed the title of the song. “When I Fall,” he recited, eyes meeting Dean’s before turning to the page again.

“It’s rough, but I think this could be a good transition between when Christian and Satine first get together, to when they realize they actually love one another,” Sam explained. “We don’t see a lot of that in the movie, you know? It’s something I always thought about, and Jess thinks it works too. We actually recorded a demo last night, so we’ll give that a listen through before we try it. Jess is Satine and I’m Christian, by the way,” he said as he pulled out his phone and ran to the tech booth to set it up.

Cas saw Dean plop down in the nearest chair, and Cas did too. They were inches apart, arms lightly brushing if they moved too quickly, and Cas felt himself flutter a bit, cheeks heating up when Dean looked over at him and timidly grinned as the first notes filled the auditorium.

 _“When I fall, it’s never gently,”_ Jess’s voice rang out, tender and lovely through the theater. _“It’s messy, and more than I asked for.”_ A pause. _“I can’t love you, the way I want to, the way you deserve to be loved.”_

A short instrumental rang out, but Cas was already sweating through his clothes. How accurate were those lyrics to his own life?

 _“When I fall, it’s always easy,”_ Sam’s voice sang, and Dean burst out laughing next to him.

“Is that the best you can do?” Dean heckled from the audience, overshadowing the next line of the song. “You sound like a whiny cat!”

“Hey, not all of us can have Broadway worthy voices! Gimme a break!” Sam called back.

“Yeah, yeah, sing for me, Palo!” Dean guffawed, and Cas joined in as Sam backtracked through the song, trying to get them focused again.

“Did you really just make a Lizzie McGuire reference?” Cas questioned before the music began again.

Dean glanced down at his hands and smirked. “It was Sam’s favorite movie when he was a kid. He never said it, but I think he had quite the crush on Hillary Duff. We quote it all the time.”

Cas bit his lip and mused at that new piece of information, gracious for any fact about the Winchesters’ lives he could obtain. It was nice to actually know another person for who they were, something that he’d missed out on for most of his life. With Crowley, there were no questions. He wouldn’t be able to tell you his fiancé’s favorite color, or what his favorite game was as a child. All he knew was the bare minimum, the facts about his business or his mother’s assets in various global affairs. With the Winchesters though, Cas felt himself learning more and more each day. If he wasn’t careful, maybe, just maybe, one day he’d even begin to feel like family.

He didn’t get to ponder that before Sam got the track going again, and his offkey singing filled the room. This time, Dean controlled himself from giggling when Sam belted out a few lines.

 _“When I fall, it’s always easy.”_ A pause. _“It’s enchanting, and all that I asked for. I will love you, the way I want to, the way you deserve to be loved.”_

 _“I should not want you!”_ Jess’s voice intervened, piano picking up in pace and dramaticism. _“But I do, I want you, I need you, I love you.”_

 _“I should not want you! But I do, I want you, I need you, I love you.”_ Sam parroted back on the recording, and now Cas felt himself curling his fingers into fists. This was hitting way too close, and with Dean next to him looking equally as uncomfortable, he had no clue if they could get through it.

 _“I am falling for you,”_ they sang in unison, voices clashing and bumping in very unflattering ways. Sam really wasn’t a singer, that was clear, but that didn’t stop Jess’s next line from punching right through him.

_“I can’t be with you, but I want you, and I’ll take you for as long as I have.”_

There were other lines that were sung, but Cas didn’t hear them. It was like his life was being displayed before him, and he felt heat rise on his neck. _“I can’t be with you, but I want you, and I’ll take you for as long as I have.”_ Was that not what he was feeling? He pushed it away, tried to hide it under the guise of friendship, but Cas knew the truth. He was lying to himself; he cared about Dean a great deal. Was it love? No, but he knew that it could be, and that scared him tremendously.

“Okay, ready to give it a try?” Sam asked as he clapped his hands together, bringing Cas’s attention back to the front of the theater.

Dean was rubbing the back of his neck next to him, but got up and traversed to the front of the stage. “I’m ready if Cas is,” he replied with a wink.

Even though everything within him was a confusing cacophony right now, Cas put on a smile and got up on stage with Dean, lyrics in hand. “Let’s try it,” he said, but inside he was flittering with nerves.

“Great!” Sam said with his lips upturned into a vivacious grin. “I’ll go get the instrumental track ready.”

After he ran off, Dean turned to Cas awkwardly. “Well, is this not fan-freaking-tastic or what?”

“I know,” Cas groaned, bringing a hand up to his face. “It’s a little...intimate, isn’t it?”

“Intimate? The last note on the page says that I’m supposed to kiss you, and not a stage kiss, either,” he said, quoting the fast scrawl of Sam’s handwriting on the bottom of the page. “I don’t know why we can’t just fake it because, you know, I don’t wanna make things…uncomfortable,” he trailed off, eyes falling to the floor.

“I am a professional, you know,” Cas snapped back, even though he knew that reaction was unfair. Dean was only trying to respect his boundaries, after all.

Dean blinked back in confusion before opening his mouth to counter, but he didn’t get a chance before the beginning notes began to play over the speakers and Cas went into his first line, trying not to show just how deep it hit when he sang the lyrics.

 _“When I fall, it’s never gently. It’s messy, and more than I asked for. I can’t love you, the way I want to, the way you deserve to be loved.”_ He turned his gaze away from Dean’s earnest and open eyes. The full force of his affection for Dean was almost too much, and he couldn’t, no, wouldn’t let Dean know that his little crush that he admitted to was slowly spiraling into something much bigger.

Luckily, Dean didn’t push him when he took a step back and instead just sang his part, soft and sweet.

“When I fall, it’s always easy. It’s enchanting, and all that I asked for. I can love you, the way I want to, the way you deserve to be loved.”

 _“I should not want you!”_ Cas exclaimed, feeling the vibrations of the track in his bones. _“But I do, I want you, I need you,”_ he hesitated over the last words, and let his eyes close as the lyrics left his mouth. _“I love you.”_

 _“I should not want you! But I do, I want you, I need you, I love you.”_ The music turned into an instrumental break before the final lines were to be sung, and Cas felt the intense need to run. The kiss was coming up, and he had no clue what Dean would do. Could he risk it? If he kissed Dean, then it was game over. He would never be able to erase Dean’s lips on his from him, even if it was just for show. What could-

“Cas? You missed a line,” Sam interrupted from the tech booth. “Let’s go back and try that in unison this time.”

No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

 _You damn well can,_ he told himself, and then curled his fingers into his hands as the music picked up again, and this time Cas pushed through and sang in unison with Dean.

 _“I am falling for you,”_ they belted together, Cas forcing himself to look Dean in the eyes. The brightness he found there was like looking into the sun, beautiful and intense and pure. It made the next line that much more poignant, and he was ashamed of the butterflies he felt rising within him as he blurted out, _“I can’t be with you, but I want you, and I’ll take you for as long as I have.”_

Dean paused for a moment before realizing that he missed a line, but Sam just motioned at them to keep going. In that moment though, Cas saw Dean’s face light up as if he was taken aback by the intensity of Cas singing those lyrics. Even afterwards, he looked unfocused as he finished out his final verse, eyes circling the room instead of looking at Cas.

He couldn’t sit there and watch this. He clearly wasn’t at all subtle, and now it was clear as day that Cas was completely and utterly gone on Dean. His friend was barely focusing and he looked uncomfortable, all because Cas couldn’t keep his inconsiderate, abomination of a crush in check.

“I’m not feeling well,” Cas blurted out when Dean waited for him to sing his part. “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

Without looking back, Cas jumped down from the stage and ran as fast as he could. He traversed up the inclined floor and through the doors, not listening to Dean’s desperate calls for him to return. It wasn't until he was out of the Thompson Center that he allowed himself to slow down, and once he was perched a good distance away from that disastrous rehearsal, only then did Cas allow himself to cry.

He was done for, completely and utterly lost on Dean, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Frustrated at himself, Cas brought the heels of his hands up to his eyes and furiously wiped the wetness off his cheeks. Why was he crying over Dean? He never had a chance with him, not with Crowley around, but he at least hoped he could have his friendship. Now even that was ruined; there was no coming back from what Cas left on that stage, and Dean must’ve known by then how gone he was.

“I can’t be around him,” Cas whispered to no one in particular as he leaned back against the nearest building, glancing up at the dark clouds in the sky. “I just can’t.”

Sam would be furious at him, and Jess would ask a thousand questions he couldn’t answer, but he had to walk away. If Cas could not separate himself from Satine, if he could not rid himself of this feeling that they were toeing the line between infatuation and love, he had to leave. He wasn’t about to drag Dean into this life of lies and play a close hand, he promised himself that. If he didn’t leave, Cas would think any stray sound a gunshot, and any footsteps could be Crowley, coming to take Dean away from him. He couldn’t think about Dean getting injured in any way. Cas couldn’t fathom the blame he’d put on himself, and he couldn’t imagine...he couldn’t…

 _Stop crying; it’s better this way_ , Cas thought to himself as he began making his way back to the bus stop with fresh tears tracking down his face. _At least you will know that he is safe_.

With a heaviness draped across him, Cas crossed his arms and began walking with a new determination in him. He would not let Dean get hurt, even if it meant taking himself out of the equation.

He could do this. He would do this for Dean. He just needed to wait for the right time to tell Sam that he would need to find a new lead.


	14. Chapter 14

_Dean knew immediately that he was dreaming. The air was thick and glittered before him, and everything seemed a little blurry as he wandered through a maze of props and costume pieces. He tripped over one of Gabriel’s capes and cussed under his breath when he fell forward, knees knocking into the ground._

_“Sonovabitch,” Dean groaned, rubbing away the flash of pain in his legs. With a grunt, he pushed himself up from the floor and began his trek once more, pushing around set pieces and various objects as he wandered down the hallway._

_What was he even doing here, anyway? His nightmares never began like this, and he hadn’t dreamt about anything but the audition since it happened._

_“Hello?” Dean asked no one in particular, cringing when his voice reverberated and clashed through the vacant hall. “Anyone?”_

_When no one responded, Dean bit his lip and plucked his cell phone out of his pocket, as if that would help explain what was going on. But all he found was a black screen, the phone utterly useless._

_“Well, ain’t that friggin’ fantastic,” he muttered under his breath, letting it fall to the floor. Dean pushed the heels of his hands over his eyes and began wandering once again, this time towards the curtains that were flapping as if caught in the wind._

_“Hello?” Dean called again, but like before, there was no reply._

_“C’mon, where is everyone?” he muttered, and that’s when he heard a low hitching of breath coming from behind the curtains._

_Dean tiptoed towards the edge of backstage, hands brought up as if ready for a fight. Who knows what was on the other side, emitting those quiet cries?_

_Carefully, Dean pulled back an edge of the ruby curtain and glanced out onto the stage. His eyes flew around the familiar Thompson Center theater before his gaze caught on a figure perched in the middle of the floor. He tried to ignore the fact that whoever it was wasn’t wearing any clothes._

__   


_“Hey, are you okay?” Dean whispered._

_He practically jumped out of his skin when the man turned towards him. It was Cas, curled up in a ball as his glanced on at Dean with eyes that looked lifeless. The lights from overhead gleamed against his warm skin, bringing brightly, plum colored bruises around his collarbone into focus. There was an enormous bump on his head too, and blood as red as wine colored his lips._

_“Cas?” Dean croaked out, heart in his throat._

_Cas didn’t respond; he just appraised Dean once before turning his gaze to the floor again._

_Dean didn’t know what to do. Cas looked so helpless there, like a bird with a broken wing. He began to walk forward, moving quietly as to not frighten Cas, but it was like he was not in the room at all._

_“What is going on?” Dean asked when he was close enough to touch his friend. He crouched down to Cas’s level and tried to catch his gaze, but Cas wouldn’t budge._

_“Cas-,” Dean began, letting his fingers trail over Cas’s bare shoulder, but he recoiled when Cas hissed at his touch and scurried away. He rolled over to the edge of the stage and glanced up at Dean with fearful eyes._

_“Don’t touch me!” Cas cried out._

_“I just wanna help-”_

_“You can’t,” Cas whispered as he curled in on himself once again. “No one can.”_

Dean woke up with a start at those words and let a yell escape his lips. He was covered in sweat and his comforter was knocked to the floor, along with his cell phone that was blaring like a bullhorn.

He wiped the tiredness from his eyes before he reached down with trembling hands and answered the call. “Hello?” he asked, hating the crack in his voice.

 _“Are you okay?”_ Sam asked, voice tinny and rough from the bad connection.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dean lied, wiping the sweat from his brow. “What’s up?”

 _“You’re still comin’ to Jess’s party tonight?”_ Sam asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

_“Jess is freaking out because we don’t have enough ice. Can you bring a bag over when you come? I don’t think that she’ll calm down otherwise.”_

“Sure thing,” Dean responded, trying to remake his bed with one hand. It was hard when it was still fluttering with fear. “Anythin’ else you need?”

_“Nope. That should be it. Just be on time, okay? I don’t think Jess will let you live it down if you’re late.”_

“Perfect. I’ll see you when I see you,” Dean said quickly, then hung up before saying goodbye.

He collapsed to his bed and tossed his cell phone onto the floor again. Jess’s party was a few hours away, and it would take time to get the ice and drive through rush hour traffic. But how in the world was Dean supposed to get up and pretend like nothing happened after a dream like that? It felt so real, as if he really touched Cas’s skin and saw him battered and bruised. Thinking about it made Dean’s toes curl. He hadn’t noticed any outright scars on Cas before the incident, but now it was all he could think about. Crowley’s actions in the alley were deplorable, but Cas acted like it had happened before. How many bruises had Cas recovered from over the years? How many bumps and harsh, red lines had appeared on Cas’s skin over the course of his relationship with Crowley? He couldn’t even imagine it.

Sighing, Dean pulled off his sweaty shirt and jeans while he made his way to the shower. He’d need to clean up before appearing at Jess’s party, because one glance in the mirror confirmed that he looked like a zombie. He turned the water on as hot as he could handle, then stripped off his boxers before climbing in.

The warmth of the shower engulfed him, but he felt no relief from his newest nightmare. When he looked down at his skin, Dean felt uneasy when he glanced at the smoothness of it. Was Cas’s skin this smooth, or was it raised and bumpy like in the dream? Were Crowley’s marks all over it?

He knocked off the water with the heel of his hand and slid to the floor, shoving his head between his knees. _It was just a dream_ , he told himself, but even he didn’t buy his lie. Knowing Crowley, watching him toss Cas around like a rag doll in that alley, there had to have been other incidents. It made him growl under his breath in disgust.

Pushing up from the ground, Dean stepped out of the shower and placed a towel around his hips. He couldn’t think of the dream, not if he was going to see Cas that night.

He busied himself with getting ready, putting on a pair of his nicer jeans and a blue button down that Jess said complimented his eyes. He coiffed his hair with gel and put on a watch before toeing on his black boots, then grabbed his keys before leaving.

The air outside was unusually warm for November when he waltzed down the apartment steps, a nice reprieve from the coolness of the week before. He climbed into Baby and curled his fingers around her wheel before he turned on the ignition, loving the roar that pounced when she came to life. Dean reached over and turned up the radio, but froze when he realized which song was playing. ‘Behind Blue Eyes’ blared from his speakers, and suddenly he was touching Cas again and blanching at his empty gaze.

He knocked his head against the wheel and groaned, turning off the radio as quick as he could.

Dean’s skin crawled and he bit his lip. Cas said it himself; no one could save him. His fate with Crowley was practically set in stone, but Dean couldn’t push off the feeling of wrongness within him. How could he just stand by and let Crowley treat Cas like garbage? How could Cas expect him to know everything and not try to fix it?

Afraid of what else could remind him of Cas, he drove away from the apartment with his fingers clenched and his gut fluttering nervously as he wondered how he could get through this party.

 

* * *

 

 

The invitation said eight, but when Dean rolled up to Jess’s townhouse at 7:45, cars were already lining the street and he heard laughter from inside. A banner that read ‘Welcome Cast and Crew of Moulin Rouge 2016!’ was draped across the archway, and the worn down door was slightly perched open, light streaming out into the night and illuminating his way.

He turned off the engine and took a deep breath before getting out of his car, Jess’s requested bag of ice cradled in his arms. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to go to the party or anything like that, but after that dream he was worried about facing Cas. His skin still felt like it was crawling and he hadn’t been able to push it off, plus he wasn’t dumb. Cas and him were toeing a very delicate line, and for Dean, the dream confirmed that. Sure, they said they were friends, but the more hours he spent with Cas in and out of rehearsal, the less he believed that to be explicitly true. Things were shifting between them. Their banter was filled with flirtation now, and when he would look into Cas’s eyes when they sang ‘Come What May’ or blocked out the raunchy sex scene Sam wrote in, Dean was sure that there was something more than friendship between them. Cas’s hand would pause on his a bit longer than necessary, or he would look into his eyes with an intensity that Dean had never felt before, or he’d grip Dean’s arm like a lifeline when their lips almost touched during ‘Elephant Love Medley’.

Of course it could all be written off as acting. It would be easier for both of them if they could count it all on Cas’s ability to step flawlessly into Satine and leave himself behind while on stage, but Dean knew what he felt for Cas wasn’t just friendship. When Cas did those things, he felt goosebumps rise on his arms. When Cas touched him, or ghosted his lips over Dean’s, it took everything in him not to close the distance between them. And after the way Cas ran off after the incident with Sam’s original song, he’d bet that Cas felt something, too.

 _But Cas will never be yours,_ he reminded himself as he traversed up the path and through Jess’s front door.

“Dean!” Jess cried out when he wandered into the brightly colored living room. Her black dress was hugging all of her curves, a peak of her lace bra popping out the top of it. It looked borderline like lingerie, but of course Dean was too much of a gentleman to comment on it.

He reached forward and pulled Jess into an awkward hug when she bounced up to him, trying to work around the ice. “Hey, Jess,” he muttered into her curls, and she pushed him away when he playfully palmed her back.

“Don’t be gross, Winchester,” Jess said with a smile, and took the ice from his arms before waltzing off into the kitchen area. “Beer?”

“Please,” Dean called as he followed behind. Maybe if he was drinking he’d be able to keep his mind off of Cas and all the confusing feelings between them. Speaking of…

“Where is everyone?” Dean asked when he glanced around the empty room.

Jess put the ice bag on the counter and tossed him a beer from a rundown looking cooler, knocking it closed with her foot. “There’s a bonfire out back. Most of the cast is already there, if you want to head out. I’ll be with you in a minute...after I take care of someone-I mean, uh, some...stuff,” she trailed off, eyes flashing to the staircase and back while a rose colored blush appeared on her cheeks.

Dean glanced up the stairs and swore that he caught a glimpse of a foot before it drew back behind the wall. It didn’t take a lot to put the pieces together, and when he did, Dean felt the need to wash out his eyes with soap.

“Please tell me that you’re not ditching your own party to bang my brother,” he moaned, then buried his head in his hands when Jess bit her bottom lip and turned away.

“It’s tough for us to find time, okay?” she whined, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. “We’re always working on _Moulin Rouge!_ if we’re not in class, and it has, you know...been a while? A girl has needs, you know, and your brother is a fabulous lo-”

“Jess, if you finish that sentence I swear to God I will leave right now and never talk to you again!” Dean cried out, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Go and do...ugh, I can’t even say it. Make it quick though, because there’s no way I’m covering for you out there.”

Jess smiled apologetically and pecked a kiss on Dean’s cheek. “We won’t be long, promise!” she called as she tramped past him and up the stairs, giggles ringing out when she reached the top, followed by the loud slam of a door.

Dean clicked the top off of his drink and brought the beer to his lips before he chugged it down. Yep, if he was going to make it through his party, he’d need to be drunk. Really, really drunk.

He trudged over to the cooler and grabbed two more beers once he downed his first one, then exited the kitchen into the backyard. On the fringes of the woods, Dean could see bright, brilliant flames licking the night sky before fizzling out of view, and he could hear the echoes of laughter from his castmates ricocheting off the trees.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged out!” Benny cawed when Dean trekked into view. The way he wavered on the whitewashed log suggested that he was a little drunk already, and when Dean caught whiff of whiskey, he quirked his lips up.

“Drinking already? The party’s just begun, Ben!” Dean teased while he fiddled with the top of one of his beers. When he was able to pry it off, he took a quick drink as he walked over to one of the empty logs and plopped down...right across from Cas.

His friend was twirling a twig between his long fingers, eyes tracing the flames as they flew up and away. His lips were pushed into a purse and the light of the fire threw his face into contrast, shadows accenting his cheekbones and long eyelashes. He looked angelic, like a Greek god-

_Get it together; you’re turning into one of Sammy’s romance novels._

Deciding that the only way he was going to ignore Cas was to get drunk, Dean took a gulp of his drink and let the empty bottle clatter against the wood log. The noise caught Cas’s attention; he looked over at Dean and smiled while he quickly waved.

 _Drink, drink, drink,_ Dean instructed himself when he began staring at Cas’s eyes, perfectly blue from the fire’s reflection. He unscrewed the top of his second round and tried to turn his attention to Garth’s wild tale about a deer in his backyard, but when he saw Cas lean forward to grab a marshmallow for a s’more, a little line of skin appeared as his t-shirt rode up, and Dean felt his heart clench. Images of Cas naked on the theater floor came flying back, and Dean clenched his fingers a little bit tighter around his bottle when he thought he caught a flash of a bruise before Cas’s t-shirt covered it.

Luckily, Benny was just tipsy enough to bring up an activity that got the entire group distracted.

“Anyone up for a little game of Truth or Dare?” Benny asked with raised eyebrows.

“I’m in,” Meg replied in her low, borderline Southern drawl. “Always up to get ol’ Clarence hot and bothered,” she said as he leaned over and nudged Cas’s knee with her own.

“Me too!” Anna chimed. “Always up for Truth or Dare, especially if Jo is playing. She’s the _worst_ ,” she teased, and Jo shoved her away.

“I protest that! I’m in,” Jo said, then elbowed Garth next to her. “What about you?”

“I’m in,” he replied, with Gabriel, Bartholomew, and Ruby following right behind. That left only Cas and Dean, and he looked over at Cas to see what his friend was thinking. Truth or dare could get dicey, being in Cas’s situation. He didn’t want to leave him alone if he wasn’t up for it, but Cas just smirked and shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ll participate,” he said, then quirked an eyebrow before turning towards Dean. “That is, if Dean isn’t too chicken to play.”

_Wait a minute...what that a challenge?_

Dean laughed once and leaned his elbows on his knees. “You’re on, Novak. Who’s gonna go first?”

“Oh golly, me!” Garth called, waving his arms frantically and tipping off the log. Laughter rang out when he popped back up again, and suddenly Dean felt hot breath brush against his ear.

“Can you believe he’s only had one beer?” Cas whispered next to him, and where the hell did he come from?

“Whoa Cas, we talked about this. Personal space?” he muttered under his breath, eyeing Meg as she tried to come up with a dare for Garth to do.

Cas backed away and sighed. “Apologies,” he mumbled. “I get a little clingy when I’m tipsy.”

Dean looked over at him and laughed. Cas did look a little worse for wear, his eyes slightly unfocused as they lazily meandered over the group. When he looked down at Cas’s hands, he found the bottle of Jack from earlier perched between his fingers, and Dean plucked it from his friend’s fingers.

“Better take it easy on that Jack,” Dean laughed when Cas whined at the loss of contact to the bottle. “Don’t want you fallin’ all over during truth or dare,” he said as he waggled his eyebrows.

Cas snorted, but didn’t comment, choosing to turn his attention to Garth unbuttoning his shirt to the hoots and hollers of their castmates.

“Typically Meg to ask a man to take his shirt off,” Cas mumbled as he plucked a piece of grass from the ground.

“Please. That’s not the worst she’s ever done. Back in college, we played this game between shows once. I was dared by her to go out on stage and flash the audience and, well…” he trailed off, blushing when Cas’s eyes blew open wide.

“You did not.”

“Indeed, I did. I was a freshman, gimme a break. I was lucky I wasn’t banned from all theatre after that, but Ms. Mills took a liking to me, I don’t know, said she saw potential. She went to the board on my behalf and everything.”

“And all because of a dare to flash your dick,” Cas said in a deadpan voice, and that caused Dean to almost spit out the sip of beer he just took.

Before he could respond back though, Benny was eyeing him from across the way and beckoned him forward with his index finger.

“Dean Winchester, you’ve been chosen,” he said in an overly-done, robotic tone that made Dean smile a bit.

Raising his hands, Dean got up from the log and walked to the middle of the circle. Fire flickered in front of him and Benny raised his whiskey before asking, “Truth or dare?”

Dean’s answer was almost immediate. “Dare,” he said, because Benny’s dares usually were legendary and he was feeling rather bold that night.

Benny leaned back on his log a bit and pursed his lips. “Okay, fine. Ten minutes, you and Novak in a closet. And there better be some sign that you kissed when you get out.”

He froze in place and immediately flicked his eyes over to Cas. He looked gobsmacked and ready to make a break for it, and Dean didn’t blame him. If they were that close, who knows what would occur between them.

“Absolutely not,” Dean snapped when Cas began to toe the ground nervously. “He’s engaged, Benny.”

Benny looked past Dean and beckoned out to Cas. “Hey, Cas! Looks like Winchester is gonna chicken out. Are you gonna too?”

“Quit it, Benny,” Dean warned in a low voice.

Benny muttered under his breath and grunted loudly when he pushed up from his chair. “Fine, fine. Then I dare you to, uh, kiss me instead,” he mewed with a wolfish grin, and whistles rang out from around the campfire.

Dean smirked and trekked over to Benny across the way. “You’re on, big guy,” he said with a smile, and then leaned forward, closing his eyes in an overdramatic manner. Benny laughed before pulling him into a wet, fumbly kiss, pushing away again when Dean tried to bite his lip in retaliation. Whoops rang out as Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and Benny nodded in his direction before making a bow and falling back onto the log.

“Okay, your turn. Who you gonna ask, Deano?” Gabriel asked with a smirk.

“I think that’s obvious, isn’t it?” Dean asked. “I’m gonna ask Ca-” he began, but paused when he caught Cas’s retreating form running towards the woods.

_Shit._

“Uh, I’ll be right back,” Dean muttered, then took off without another glance at his friends.

“Cas!” Dean bellowed, but he was too far away to hear his voice. Grunting, Dean began running towards the edge of the forest where Cas wandered into, pushing through bushes and other flora as he tried to catch up to Cas’s ever quickening pace.

“Castiel!” he yelled as loud as he could, and let out a breath when Cas finally slowed to a walk as Dean caught up.

“Where are you goin’?” Dean asked gruffly as he tried to catch his breath again.

Cas rubbed the back of his neck and turned away from Dean. “It was just getting a little crowded over there, that’s all,” he said, but Dean wasn’t dumb.

“Don’t lie, Cas. What’s the real reason you left?”

“It’s dumb,” he mumbled under his breath, and when he turned towards Dean there were crystals forming in his eyes where the moonlight hit his brimming tears. “I just...couldn’t watch you kissing Benny.”

Dean rocked back on his heels and tried to process this information. Cas was on the brink of tears because he kissed someone? What ever happened to being only friends? Didn’t they discuss this? They couldn’t act on their mutual attraction. It was dangerous, Dean could get hurt, he’d heard it all before. But if they were really, truly feeling the same way, if Cas almost cried because he kissed Benny, then was the danger worth the risk?

“Cas…”

“It’s ridiculous, I know. We can’t be together, Dean, but I can’t explain the jealousy that rose in me when I saw you with him-”

“Cas-”

“And that’s not the first time I’ve wanted to make a claim on you, either. When we sang that original song, it took everything in me not to kiss you. And that wasn’t because Satine was supposed to kiss Christian, but I thought we should kiss, Cas and Dean. It’s why I left. I...can’t explain why I’m so gone on you, Dean,” Cas groaned with a humorless laugh. “I don’t know when my crush turned into,” he gestured between them frantically, “this! Me pining over you like I’m not already engaged! I don’t know why, but I can stop this before it goes too far.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I can’t work with you like this. I’m not over you, and I don’t think I can be until I walk away from this musical. I’m sorry, but I can’t be your Satine, because if I do, I don’t know what will happen between us. If Crowley finds out anything he’ll take you down or Sam or-”

“Cas, Cas, Cas!” Dean interrupted when Cas began to wheel around in a circle, clearly distraught and looking for something to hold onto. With hesitant fingers, Dean walked close and brought a hand up to Cas’s face. The way he curled into his palm broke Dean’s heart, because he could only imagine the horrid things Crowley probably did when his hand came in contact with Cas’s cheek. It was then, right then, that he decided. He didn’t care about the possibilities of getting hurt, or injured, or worse. Cas needed him, that much was clear as day, and there was no way he was going to let him go into this loveless marriage without truly experiencing a real, palpable relationship.

“Dean…” Cas whispered, but Dean just lowly shushed him as he drew Cas in close. He felt wetness dampen his flannel, and he began rubbing his hand over the back of Cas’s head to calm him down a bit.

“You don’t deserve to be treated this way,” Dean pleaded, his own voice cracking from the intense feelings running just beneath his skin. “You don’t deserve to be thrown into this...this...trap of a marriage just because your dad screwed up. Look at me,” he said, pulling Cas’s head back so he could look into his eyes. They were glassy and bright and beautiful, and suddenly Dean couldn’t hold back what he’d been wanting to say for weeks. “I feel the exact same way, Cas. I’ve felt that way ever since I saw you with Balthazar at the hospital. I didn’t like watching you with him, or Crowley, or anyone else but me, which is unfair. But...I don’t care. I want you, Cas. All of you, for as long as I can. And maybe that’s a few weeks, maybe it’s until Crowley drags you away on a plane, but I want that time, Cas. Whatever I can get.”

Cas gaped back at him and suddenly Dean wondered if he said too much. What if he was reading the signs all wrong? What if Cas wasn’t willing to put them in danger? Why didn’t he think about how he wouldn’t be the only one risking safety from this? What if-

He didn’t get to think further before Cas leaned in close, lips upturned into a wickedly content grin.

“You’re going to be bad for business,” he whispered lowly, and then closed the distance between them and laid his lips on Dean’s.

The kiss wasn’t what he always imagined. It was less feisty and passionate than he thought it would be, and instead was warm and filled with careful touches as Cas brought his hand up to card through Dean’s hair. He moaned at the touch, and he felt Cas giggle beneath his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Dean mumbled into the air between them, and Cas flashed his eyes up at him with a grin.

“I’m just...trying to convince myself that this is real, that’s all. It doesn’t feel like it.”

Dean rubbed circles into Cas’s cheeks and left a tender kiss on his lips. “It’s real, Cas. I’m here, okay? And I’m not leaving you.”

Cas nodded in understanding and then pressed his lips to Dean’s again, this time with more fire in the kiss. Dean responded back immediately, grasping his fingers into Cas’s hair and guiding him back against a nearby tree. Their breaths began to speed up as they worked their way down, lips caressing jaws, necks, collarbones. When Cas’s teeth dragged along his earlobe, Dean felt like his entire world was exploding in color, and that time he wasn’t even taken aback by the whimper that escaped from him.

When Cas’s fingers began to play with the button on his jeans though, Dean lightly pushed Cas away.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked with a confused look on his face.

Dean blushed and tried to fight off the arousal that was blooming in his belly. He wanted to act on it, the tightness in his pants confirmed that, but in his heart, Dean knew that it wasn’t the right time. A quickie in the forest right after they got together wasn’t how he wanted Cas. He deserved better.

“I want to take our time, is that okay?” Dean asked with raised eyebrows. “We’ve got five months until opening night, after all.”

Cas quirked his lips up and traversed backwards. “I would love that, Dean. Let’s take our time.”

Dean smiled, and then walked forward to grab Cas’s hand in his own. The way their fingers twined together was like two puzzle pieces, perfectly fitted for the other. He couldn’t help but be giddy as they tramped through the forest together, gazing up at the clouds above their heads as they followed the sight of fire out of the trees.

About a quarter of a mile out from camp, Cas pulled them to a stop and looked at Dean with concerned eyes. “Nobody can know about this, you understand that, right?” Cas asked with wary eyes. “And it’s not because I’m ashamed of you, it’s just...you never know who you can trust with Crowley around so close. I want you for all of those days we can have together, and I don’t want Crowley interfering with that.”

Of course Dean knew this, but it still broke him to see Cas so worried. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Sam,” Dean vowed.

Cas relaxed at that and pulled his hand out of Dean’s. “Thanks,” he said quickly, and then began trekking forward ahead of him as the glow from the fire got closer. “I’ll go in first, and then you follow. That way, no one will know what we’ve been up to.”

Dean laughed lowly and ran forward to pull Cas back. “Yeah, but they’ll notice that your hair looks like you’ve been making out,” Dean giggled as he tried to push down the unruly pieces.

Cas blushed as Dean’s fingers carded through his hair, and he clapped Cas on the back as he turned him around. “This is going to be troublesome,” Cas said through his teeth, but Dean just pecked a kiss on his cheek.

“We’re good actors. We can hide it, but don’t think that I won’t entice you into the costume closet during breaks,” Dean murmured in Cas’s ear.

Cas trembled a bit before hissing, “You will be the end of me, Winchester.”

Dean laughed as he knocked Cas forward. “Yeah, okay. Now go convince them that you didn’t just get the best kiss of your life. I’ll be right behind you.”

Cas turned and laid a hand on Dean’s cheek, and he calmed when he saw the fondness in Cas’s eyes.

“I’ll see you out there, Dean,” he said, then turned away with a bright, brilliant grin on his face.

Dean grinned back. “I’ll see you out there.”


	15. Chapter 15

Cas felt the ghost of Dean’s lips on his for days after their kiss in the woods. Whenever they’d cross paths at rehearsal the following week, they’d shyly smile at one another, their shared secret keeping them close as they tried to act like nothing had changed at all. For the most part, they were good at hiding their newly blooming relationship. They wouldn’t do anything outright in front of others, but would still get to rehearsal earlier than everyone else to steal kisses in the dressing room, or would stay long after the others had left to curl up on the theater floor together, whispering closely about the play and singing parts of ‘One Year of Love’ if they were feeling especially sentimental that day. Cas was filled with happiness, and apparently it was showing.

“What’s got you all bubbly today?” Jess asked as Cas doodled a few lines of hearts on his graphing paper. They were lounged out on the plaid, rundown couches in Kripke Hall on a Friday night, reveling in the quiet around them. All of the other students were probably out partying by then, or studying at the newer, well kept dorms, but Cas always insisted on his favorite place on campus. Kripke was an underappreciated gem; it was an old building, yes, with mysterious, brown stains that looked a lot like spilled beer, and yellowing wallpaper that was peeling away in a few places, but it was remote and perfect for getting away from the bustling Lawrence campus. You could get lost in your thoughts there, or cram for a test without the voices of other students mumbling around you, or hide from your scumbag fiancé on nights when he was angry at you.

“Cas?” Jess chirped when he didn’t respond right away.

“Nothing,” Cas replied, a bit too quickly to be believable.

Jess leaned back into the cushions and kicked her feet up on the table, landing right in front of where Cas was going to doodle next. He glared over at her but she was beyond amused, arms crossed over her chest as she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh really? Nothing? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, Cas. What gives?”

“Nothing, really!” Cas exclaimed, yanking the paper out from underneath his friend’s boots. “Rehearsals are going well, and I passed my Language midterm-”

“And you’ve been getting pretty close to Dean lately,” Jess teased with a wink, and Cas couldn’t hide the blush that rose to his cheeks.

“That is...that...that has nothing to do with this,” Cas fumbled over his words, but Jess was just smiling at him fondly.

“I was joking, but now I’m not so sure!” Jess teased, leaning forward on one elbow. “Do you have a crush on him, Novak?”

He turned his eyes away from Jess and tried to hide the smile that was forming on his lips. “Of course not. I’m engaged, remember?”

Jess laughed and rocked forward to grab her homework from the glass table. “It’s okay if you do, you know.”

He perked up at that. “It is?”

“Of course! Crushes are completely innocent. I’ve had a few over the years while I’ve been dating Sam,” she said while jotting down a few numbers on her paper.

Cas quirked his eyebrow up at her. “Really? Who?”

Jess’s pen paused on the paper and she grinned at her knees. “Um...a few guys from my Bio classes. Alex, John, andalsogabriel,” she whispered under her breath, eyes flashing up to the ceiling.

“Excuse me, did you just say-”

“Yes, I said Gabriel, sue me!” Jess exclaimed, burying her head in her hands. “You can’t tell anyone that, ever! Sam would never let me live that one down.”

Cas laughed next to her and knocked his elbow into her arm. “I promise not to tell anyone that you’re crushing on the biggest pain in Sam’s ass since, well, ever.”

Jess nudged him back and grabbed her homework from the floor. “Regardless of my own poor choices in crushes, your crush on Dean isn’t a big deal at all. I mean, look at Sam and I. We’re two years and counting, and you’ve been with Crowley for what...nine? A little affection for your co-lead isn’t going to ruin your relationship.”

Cas played with the edge of his paper when a few students walked by, talking in hushed tones about a party they were going to later that night. He grunted as he turned to his homework, trying to hide his discomfort at the subject from Jess.

It was for her own safety, but there were times like these when he wished he could tell Jess everything. He yearned to tell his best friend about his kiss with Dean in the forest behind her townhouse, about the kisses they’ve stolen since then between ruby theater curtains and in costume closets and in Dean’s Impala before Cas caught the bus back to his apartment. He wanted Jess to know how much of an ass Crowley really was, about the abuse and the reasons he had to keep her away as much as possible. He wanted the girl who bumped into him that first day of college, the girl who took him under his wing when he was lanky and afraid of his new life, the girl who introduced him to the greatest joys theatre could bring, the girl who invited him to parties where her friends were and gave him the family he always wanted to know everything. For an instant, he considered telling her. Jess could keep a secret and she wasn’t who Crowley was threatened by, after all. Would it be that terrible if just someone outside of this whole mess knew about it all?

But of course that was ridiculous. He was already in too deep, and pulling Jess into this just because of his own comfort was selfish and stupid.

“I’m bored with Algebra,” Jess complained after a bit of quiet between them, lips pushed out into a pout. “Up for sushi?”

Cas sighed out of relief, grateful that this entire subject of crushes could be abandoned for the time being. “Only if you’re paying,” he replied.

Jess faked an aghast expression and gasped. “Mr. Novak, you would allow a lady to pay for your sushi? Why, I am clutching my pearls!”

Cas snorted as he pulled her up from the couch and knocked into her hip with his own. “Are you forgetting that I paid for you the last three times?”

“You offered! That doesn’t count, Cas,” she whined with her nose held high.

“Touche,” he replied, collecting his papers from the table and ground before pushing them all in the leather briefcase Crowley made him carry around. “Everyone pays for their own then?”

“Agreed. But you’re paying for gas!” she called as she ran out the door and towards the parking lot.

Cas beamed widely. He could only imagine how worse for wear he’d be without Jessica Moore in his life.


	16. Chapter 16

Five. That’s the number of vibrations Sam felt against his leg during his Economics final, and when he turned in his exam and walked out of the room, he dared those texts to be anything but important.

Luckily for him, they were. The first was a text from Jess that read:

_Jess: Okay, don’t panic, but we could have a problem with the production. I’ll update you when I know more about it._

He frowned down at his phone before swiping down to the next text.

_Jess: Yep, there’s a problem. A big one. Text me when you get this!_

_Jess: Okay, I really need you to text me back now!_

_Jess: Sam? Answer!_

_Jess: ANSWER ME THIS IS A BIG PROBLEM AND ONLY YOU CAN FIX IT._

He didn’t bother to text back. Instead, Sam dialed Jess’s number and began running down the hallway, hoping to catch the next bus to the townhouse before it left. He tried not to think the worst, but it was hard after reading Jess’s texts. Did the theater catch fire? Did Dean and Cas fight? Or was it bigger than that? Was the festival cancelled?

“Dammit Jess,” Sam whispered to himself when his call went to voicemail. “Answer!”

He was approaching the bus stop and tripping on the snow soaked pavement when his phone beeped in his hand and a new text appeared.

_Jess: I’m at Celestial Cafe in downtown Lawrence. I’ll be around until you come by._

Great. Just great. Jess never texted like that, with proper punctuation and the like. Sam groaned at his phone as the bus pulled up to the stop, signaling that it was indeed heading for downtown Lawrence. He plucked his bus pass from his pocket and got on, taking a seat next to an older gentleman with graying hair and frayed jeans. He was snoring loudly, and Sam cringed every time he jostled next to him and rolled over slightly, infringing on Sam’s personal space. When the man began smiling and muttering about “the damn crooks of World War 2!” while his eyes fluttered a bit, he prayed that the bus would hurry up.

It took about twenty minutes, but when they pulled up in front of Rufus’s garage Sam got off and ran the rest of the way, dodging women with strollers getting their presents bought, or children throwing snowballs at one another while their guardians gossiped about the latest news around town. When Celestial’s infamous glow-in-the-dark sign came into view and he found Jess sitting at a table near the window, Sam let out a sigh of relief. Nothing looked too out of the ordinary, besides the spreadsheets littering the booth and the nearby floor area.

He tossed open the door and caught his girlfriend’s eye across the room.

“Hey Jess- ow!” Sam exclaimed after he knocked into someone walking by.

When he turned around a man with beady eyes wearing a black suit was glancing up at him, coffee cupped in his hands. He nodded quickly before muttering, “Apologies, Samuel” and taking off out the door.

“Hey, it’s no big dea-,” Sam froze in place, because wait... _what?_ How did a total stranger know his name?

“I’m over here!” Jess called with a little wave.

Sam stored away the mysterious man for later pondering and walked over to Jess’s table. He took in the spreadsheets all around her, filled with prices and costs. When Jess glanced up at him, her eyes were red and glassy, indicating that she’d been crying.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Sam asked as he took a seat next to her and pulled Jess into his arms.

She gestured at the papers and groaned loudly. “We’re broke, that’s what’s wrong! We’ve used up our entire budget for the play and we still don’t have any sets or costumes paid for!”

Sam picked up one of the spreadsheets and gaped at the numbers. “What happened to that 10,000 dollars we got from Ed and Harry?”

Jess flicked through a few texts on her phone and held it up for Sam to read. “Look at this conversation. We’re the ones who got it wrong, Sam. Every team was given a 1,000 dollars, not 10. We read the instructions incorrectly and now we’re _in debt_. Ed says that because it was on us, we’ve gotta find a way to pay for everything we’ve already ordered.”

Sam felt like a thousand pounds landed in his lap. The point of the competition was to put on a Broadway worthy performance, and with Ed and Harry’s ten grand guiding them, the production team went all out. Custom costumes, professional set designers, and lavish marketing demolished their budget fast, but they felt every penny was worth it. But what if they had the budget wrong? What if those texts were right? No, that couldn’t be, could it?

“No, that can’t be right. They’re the one in the wrong. The email said 10,000!” Sam exclaimed, furiously flying through the hundreds of emails in his inbox to find it. When he came across one labeled as ‘Festival Budget’ he was confident that the text had it wrong. They couldn’t screw up that badly, could they?

Turns out, they could.

“No way. _Each team will receive a budget of 1,000 dollars to begin. Anything over will come out of the team lead’s pocket._ ” Sam paused, turning towards Jess with wide, concerned eyes. “Jess...what is the final budget for this play?”

“Nine thousand, give or take,” Jess mumbled under her breath. “And there really isn’t a lot we can do without, either. Not if we want to be on par with the competitors. The team doing West Side Story in space is working with a NASA expert to make it as accurate as possible, and the team doing Titanic is getting parts from a real boat. A real boat!” Jess exclaimed loudly. She pounded her fist down on the table and began grabbing the papers into a pile. “We’re screwed, Sam. Utterly, totally, screwed.”

Sam leaned back and ran a hand over his face. They were screwed, unless…

“Would your uncle invest?” Sam asked Jess. “He’s rich, after all.”

Jess tucked herself into his arms and frowned. “Uncle Michael isn’t one for the arts. I don’t think I could get him to invest, and either way we could never pay him back. We’re both buried in student loans already.”

Sam felt the gears turning in him. _It would be okay_ , he thought. They could get people to donate, go around campus. Lawrence, though a tiny Kansas town, was quite liberal. The theatre festival was the pride and joy of the city, and maybe if he did a few favors, picked up an extra job for spring semester, they’d get through this. But the number was like a beacon that was too bright to look at. The more he thought about it, the more impossible the number felt.

Jess’s hand landed on his forearm and he looked down at her.

“We’ll be fine,” Jess said with a flimsy grin.

He just wished that he could believe her about that.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” he repeated back.

Jess nodded and picked up a cup of coffee he didn’t notice earlier. “Don’t you have a final today?” she mused while she took a sip of her latte.

Sam felt himself freeze. “Yeah, for Theatre History and it starts in...oh shit,” Sam whispered as he glanced down at his phone. “Uh, in fifteen minutes.” He untangled himself from Jess. “Sorry I need to go, but if you want my help with anything-”

“-I’ll leave you a voicemail,” she finished, then waved her hands at him. “Get going! You’re gonna be late if you miss the bus. I’ll try to find a solution while you’re gone.”

He leaned down to peck a kiss on her lips and let his fingers brush against her cheek before turning away. “I love you!” he called as he turned on his heels, then left the cafe as quickly as possible.

For the first time in his life, Sam was thankful for a crowded bus when he climbed on. The gum chewing neighbor he was next to and the whiny baby distracted him from the news, but not for long. By the time the bus pulled up in front of Lawrence U, Sam was officially worried about their budget woes. How was he going to pay for that 9,000 dollars?

A ping went off in his hand, and Sam glanced down at his phone. A text from an unknown number was there, and Sam swiped it open.

_Unknown: Come to 1151 Randolf Road in downtown Lawrence on the January 1st around 1ish. I will be waiting for you to discuss your financial woes. Good day._

... _What?_ Unless Jess talked to someone at the cafe, he thought it had to be a prank. But who else would know about their financial troubles?

He didn’t have time to think it over. Instead, he pushed it off and walked into his exam, trying to focus on passing his classes first. Couldn’t go to grad school if he didn’t graduate college, after all.

With a sigh and his good mood tarnished for the day, Sam plopped down into a seat and pulled out a pencil from his pocket.

“It’ll all work out,” he muttered under his breath as the professor explained the time limit for the exam. “It has to.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Ugh...that feels _amazing,_ ” Cas groaned into his ear as Dean pushed him up against the wall, hips knocking closely.

They were in a cramped closet, but Dean didn’t mind. If he was being truthful, he preferred the tiny space; it meant there was less room between them, and Dean could take Cas’s face in his hands and nip a mark onto his neck just like he wanted with little problem.

Cas moaned and wiggled beneath him as Dean brought his lips down to his collarbone, teeth lightly grazing over Cas’s now pale skin, the tan from summer officially faded as December was upon them. It was surreal; it felt like just yesterday Dean had hated the sight of Cas, and now he was kissing him on any chance he got. The past months were pure magic, but there was still the looming marriage that floated over them like a cloud.

But he could forget about that when Cas’s tongue was in his mouth.

“Cas,” Dean grunted back as Cas’s hand came up to tug at his hair, fingers caressing and tugging gently.

“You’re amazing,” Cas said before he pecked a kiss on Dean’s cheek. “And kind and gorgeous and...perfect.”

“Less talking,” Dean pushed out as he jutted a knee between Cas’s thighs, blushing when he found a tightness there. “More touching.”

“Agreed,” Cas practically growled as he captured Dean’s lips again, this time with even more fire than before. He felt Cas’s fingers trying to undo his belt, but this time, he didn’t stop him. He told himself that his first time with Cas would be elegant, planned out. He had visions of taking Cas out to a nice dinner and then to a hotel a few towns over, somewhere Crowley’s presence wouldn’t be and Cas could totally let himself loose.

But then again, he didn’t have Cas’s hands on his hips when he thought that. A quickie in a closet could certainly be just as perfect.

“Anyone here?” a voice rang out from outside, and Cas’s hands froze on Dean’s zipper.

“Shit, is that Garth?” Dean whispered as Cas threw a hand over his mouth. “What the-” he mumbled, but Cas just glared at him.

“I think it is, and our cover’s going to be blown if you don’t shut up,” Cas hissed lowly while he removed his hand, instead letting it rest on Dean’s arm.

“Anyone?” Garth called, footsteps ringing out right outside of the closet door.

“I think-”

“What ever happened to shutting up?” Dean whispered harshly, eyes flicking from the door to Cas and back again in rapidity. Dean felt himself tensing up, and only when the footsteps faded away did he allow himself to relax.

“That could’ve been a disaster,” Cas mumbled under his breath as Dean slid to the ground. Cas followed and took a seat in front of him, pulling Dean’s arm around his waist and resting his head against Dean’s chest. It was their default position, Cas curled up like a cat while Dean held on as tight as he could.

“I wish we didn’t have to sneak around,” Dean mumbled into Cas’s hair, leaving a tender kiss on the top of his head.

“Me too,” Cas whispered back. “I wish a lot of things these days. I wish I could hold your hand in public without threat of death. I wish I could kiss you in front of our friends. I wish I could get rid of this engagement ring,” Cas said, twirling the obsidian band Crowley bought for him around his finger, “and escape him forever.”

“That’s quite a long list.”

“I said that I wish for a lot of things,” Cas repeated as he curled further into Dean’s grip. There were voices coming from outside now, Gabriel and Jess’s the most dominant from the group. Trying not to nudge Cas too much, Dean fished inside his pocket for his phone. It read 10:45, and rehearsal would be beginning soon. They would have to sneak out back, come in separately to throw everyone off. Never could be too careful, after all.

And yet, Dean wanted nothing more than to stay on that floor with Cas in his arms, counting the number of elf ears left over from Professor Mills’ _Lord of the Rings_ project from last year. He wanted to talk about Cas’s childhood, get to know him a little bit better than he did then. He wanted to feel Cas’s lips against his again, because he couldn’t get enough.

Dean let out a sigh. As it turned out, he wished for a lot of things, too.

But instead of asking Cas about his favorite childhood memory, or his favorite place to eat in downtown Lawrence, Dean asked the one question he’d danced around since Jess’s party, the one piece of this intricate, messed up puzzle they were all entangled in that was unclear.

“How long do we have?” Dean whispered into Cas neck as he laid his lips against it.

Cas sighed. “I think we’ve got a few minutes until we need to sneak away-”

“That’s...not what I’m talking about, Cas,” Dean said lowly, eyes closing as he awaited Cas’s answer.

He felt Cas tense up beneath him, and he almost wished that he hadn’t asked the question at all. What they had was great; why couldn’t he accept that it wouldn’t last?

“June,” Cas whispered after a few beats. “Crowley wants to get married in June.”

Dean fell silent. _June_. He thought it would be soon, but that was only a few weeks after the festival. Would Cas still be around then, or would Crowley insist on them going back to England to be with his mother and their business? There was a part of Dean that thought they’d have longer. It broke him inside to realize the truth.

“June,” Dean repeated to no one in particular.

“June,” Cas parroted back, then turned so he could look Dean in the eye. “That’s months away. We still have time, Dean, and I plan to use every minute of that time.”

He nodded, but was too busy staring blankly at the wall to do much else. He didn’t know why he was being so irrational about this. He’d known from the start that it wouldn’t be forever. Maybe it was because time was never something he focused on or cared about. Growing up in a town like Lawrence, people didn’t keep track of time that much. Your days passed by with little change. You’d go to class or work, come back, maybe get in a viewing of your favorite TV show or film before heading off to bed. Day in, day out, never changing. But this? This was new for him. This level of passion and protection was something he’d never felt before, and damn if he was going to let that go easily. If Cas was going into this marriage, if there was nothing they could change, then there were a few things that he wanted him to experience first.

“Dean?” Cas whispered when he didn’t speak for a bit. “I think-”

“What are you doing for Christmas break?” Dean interrupted, the intensity of his question throwing even himself off.

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what I’m doing. Crowley is going to England and I’m keeping up the apartment while he’s gone.”

Dean waited a few moments before replying, “That’s no way to spend a holiday, Cas. Why...why don’t you come home with me?”

Cas gaped back at him like he just suggested that they go climb Mount Everest, or something equally as absurd. “You want me to come home with you for Christmas?”

“Yeah, Cas. Look, Jess is coming too, and you could sleep on the couch if you didn’t wanna have anyone question you, and Mom is gonna want to meet you too, and we’ve got lots of pie and a tree and you deserve a real Christmas and-”

“Dean!” Cas exclaimed with a laugh when Dean began babbling. He grinned up at Dean and nodded. “I’d love to come home with you for break.”

Dean couldn’t help it; he pulled Cas into a tight embrace and smiled into his neck. “Really?” he asked in a comically high voice.

Cas giggled into his collarbone and lightly pushed Dean away. “Yes, really. I don’t know a lot about your family, and I’d love to get to know them better. Besides,” he said with amused eyes, “I can only imagine what a Winchester Christmas will be like. Should I bring a camera to document the occasion?”

“No, but bring any expandable pants you own. Mom’s pies are legendary, Cas. I can’t explain it. I just hope that she makes extra this year,” Dean mused as he untangled himself from Cas and stood up. “Sammy and I wrestled for the final piece last year and it wasn’t pretty.”

Cas snorted. “You did not wrestle over a baked good.”

“You underestimate me, Cas,” he teased with quirked up lips. “I’ll do anything for pie.”

“I’ll need to remember that,” Cas practically purred as he reached out for Dean’s hand, then pulled himself from the ground. “Could use that later,” he drawled, pecking a kiss on Dean’s lips, and it took everything in him not to moan obscenely again.

“Don’t you need to get to rehearsal?” Dean got out through his teeth as Cas’s hands began making their way down.

Cas sighed and turned away from Dean. “There are other things I’d rather be doing,” he pointed out, and Dean blushed when he caught Cas readjusting himself in the corner.

Dean fumbled towards the entrance and playfully kicked Cas’s ass. “Yeah, I’m irresistible, but like you said, we have time.”

“That we do,” Cas whispered as he walked over to the door, and then opened it a crack to glance outside. “Wait...I think they’re all in the auditorium. We could go out back and then come in the main entrance. No one would notice that way.”

“Good plan,” Dean replied as he peeked out, confirming what Cas already told him. Nobody was backstage, and the door leading into the alley was slightly propped open to let out the insufferable heat of the theater. In other words, it was the perfect route to get out unnoticed.

“Okay, you ready? Three, two, go!” Dean whispered excitedly, and then they were throwing themselves out the closet and into the backstage area. Cas looked over at Dean and nodded towards the back exit, then they both began ghosting towards it while trying to not bump into the many intricate set pieces that were strewn haphazardly and the various props flung any which way.

They were steps away from the exit when a loud crunch sounded out from under Dean’s foot.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he looked at the ground and found one of Satine’s hats completely crushed. He reached down, hoping to fix it, but Cas’s hand landed on his and tugged him out the door instead.

“There’s no time!” Cas exclaimed as they ran down the alley and hid behind the next building over. They fell from view just in time; when Dean glanced at the door again, a hand was closing it and the door clicked shut, the sound reverberating all around them.

They remained still as statues, waiting for someone else to come out and find them, but nobody did. When they were positive that they made it, they broke into laughter and began chasing one another towards the Thompson Center entrance, hands coming together when they saw that no one was in sight. They only let go when they came up to the glass doors, and Cas turned towards him with an amused look on his face.

“That was exhilarating,” Cas blurted out with wide eyes. “We should almost get caught backstage more often.”

“Oh, it’s gonna happen one of these days. We kinda suck at being discreet,” Dean muttered back, and after looking around to be positive no one was looking, he pecked a quick kiss on Cas’s lips. “But you better get in there before they ask any more questions. I don’t know if we’re out of the woods yet.”

Cas winded down a bit and rocked back on his heels. “They’ll ask why I was late. Think they’ll believe that I missed the bus?”

Dean put his phone back in his pocket and fidgeted with the edge of his jacket. “Better than saying you were busy playing Pokemon Go,” he joked and Cas just glared at him.

“I’m sorry if I’m not as obsessed with that game as the rest of the world is,” Cas muttered under his breath.

“C’mon, you’re just extremely jealous that you can’t catch a Pikachu.”

“He’s the main character! Why is he that hard to catch?” Cas exclaimed as he pouted, but Dean just turned him towards the door and opened it for him.

“Ask Jess. Word around is that she’s catching a ton. But get to rehearsal first. You’re not gonna want to piss Sammy off too much during finals week,” he replied, and then nudged Cas with his elbow.

Cas weakly grinned at him, and then walked through the doors without another word.

As Dean watched Cas leave, there was one thing that was clear. The amount of time he got with Cas didn’t matter; it would never be enough.


	18. Chapter 18

Cas’s boots pounded against the pavement as he ran through downtown. His breath heaved in his chest as the freezing December air bit at his nose and tore through his lungs, begging for him to slow down, but he couldn’t. He was late for an incredibly important meeting and he berated himself for not checking his phone earlier, but there was nothing he could do now. Crowley would be utterly pissed and he would pay the price.

His footsteps fell from a run to a walk when he approached the glittering sign outside Cucina Bela. Twinkle lights lined the doorway when he wandered in and a maître d' greeted him from his podium with a brilliantly white smile. Cas gave out Crowley’s name and was led through throngs of Saturday night diners, too interested in their pasta and conversations to notice how disheveled Cas looked for the restaurant. When he caught a glimpse of himself in a wall of mirrors, he grimaced. His hair was poking up in odd places from where Dean ran his fingers through it, and his lips still looked puckered and red from where Dean had bit them.

He blushed when he recalled why he was late for this dinner in the first place; Dean had taken him out to the Roadhouse after rehearsal and had gotten him tipsy on wine coolers, and Cas never hid that he was a handsy drunk. They ended up in the Impala, seeing who could leave the most bites on the other person before Cas realized the time and ran off, leaving an _obviously_ unsatisfied Dean behind.

“This way, sir,” the maître d' instructed when Cas paused a moment too long.

Cas nodded and followed him again, trying not to bump into waiters with full trays and busboys with empty plates. They wandered through the crowds for quite awhile until they reached a secluded back room with a heavy, iron clad door.

“Mr. Crowley is inside,” the maître d' instructed, then left Cas alone outside the entrance.

He brought the sleeve of his jacket up and wiped the sweat that lingered on his forehead. He could do this; he could get through this dinner, deal with Crowley’s promised annoyance over being late, and escape back to Dean’s arms after tomorrow’s rehearsal.

After taking a long and deep breath, Cas pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The room was filled with twinkling lights, just like the outdoor entrance. A long, walnut table with porcelain plates, glinting forks, and glass cups on it took up the middle of the room, tall candles littering the center and flickering in the low light. Cream colored chairs lined the edge and Cas’s eye caught on where he was supposed to be sitting, but Crowley’s red, blotchy face halted him from moving to his place. His fiancé looked beyond pissed, lip curled up in a twisted smile as he crushed his napkin in his left hand.

“Where the hell were you?” Crowley growled out as he pushed up from the chair and stomped over to Cas. “Do you know how late you are?”

“I’m sorry,” Cas got out through gritted teeth, but Crowley clearly was not pleased with his answer.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Crowley exploded, hands coming up to grip the lapels of Cas’s jacket.

Cas felt his blood turn icy and he tried to keep a calm face. “Sam called an emergency rehearsal,” he lied. “I couldn’t get out of it.”

Crowley eyed him like he was a bug on the ground and shoved him away. “And why was I not informed?”

Cas bit his lip. “I...uh…”

“Oh, let the boy be, Fergus!”

Crowley and Cas blanched at the Scottish accent and turned towards the door where it came from.

Cas only met Rowena Macleod in person a handful of times, even though she’d been the puppeteer of his life for years. He knew her best through phone calls and webcams, commercials and magazine covers, and even then Rowena put on a persona for the press. In her ads for Coven Food, she looked like a sophisticated, elegant woman of power who probably volunteered with the needy or fed abandoned animals on the street. To the world, Rowena was known as the ‘Scottish Sweetheart,’ but in person she was anything but.

Rowena was terrifyingly pretty, like a thorny rose. The retouching in the magazines put a soft glow around her, but in real life she was all cold edges. Her nails were painted a plum purple and were filed down to points, and her teeth were vampire-like, canines a little sharper than the others behind her bow shaped, ruby red lips. Her collarbones were harsh lines and her curves were angular, hips jutting out in her onyx dress. Even her heels were five inches tall and pointy, and Cas guessed that they could be used as a weapon if needed. The only thing that was soft about Rowena was her curls, but even they were a fiery red that spoke of the flames inside her.

“Mother,” Crowley croaked out when Rowena waltzed into the room, hands poised on her hips.

“Fergus,” she replied curtly, lips pulled up in a taut line, and then turned towards Cas. “Ah, and it is good to see you again, Castiel.”

Cas nodded towards Rowena and walked forward. “It is good to see you too, Rowena,” he replied in an overly polite tone.

She waved at the table and pulled out her chair. “Please, sit down. I believe there is much to discuss today.”

Cas did as he was told and fell into one of the plush chairs. A waiter, who Cas didn’t notice lingering in the corner of the room, ran over and quickly filled up wine glasses with Zinfandel before scurrying away again.

Rowena picked up her glass of rich wine and took a sip before saying, “I’m curious, how is your musical going, Castiel?”

He picked up his own glass and twirled the liquid around. “It’s been productive,” he replied, carefully choosing his words.

He heard Crowley’s curt snort next to him but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he turned his eyes to the plate and tried to avoid Rowena’s piercing gaze that was appraising him from across the table.

“I’m pleased to hear that,” she replied with a wicked smile, voice ringing out like windchimes. Cas immediately thought that was how she lured in her partners; she was like a spider, weaving a web of fancy dinners and pleasantries until you were caught in her trap.

Cas was grateful that the waiter from before appeared again, this time with salads for them all. The food eased the awkward conversation for a few moments as they they dug in, the sound of lettuce crunching and glass clinging filling the air instead of words. He took pleasure in the taste of Italian dressing on his tongue until Rowena dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and brought up a figure he tried to avoid talking about at all costs.

“I was on the phone with your father the other day, Castiel,” Rowena said offhandedly, and Cas paused on bringing his wine glass to his lips.

He laid the glass down and folded his hands on top of the table. “And? How is my father doing?”

Rowena’s overly sweet grin turned into an annoyed twist of her lips. “Oh, he’s fine, dearie. Gamblin’ away your fortune and expectin’ me to pick up the slack.”

Cas glanced at his knees. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I haven’t talked to Father since before the semester began. Usually his gambling gets worse during the holidays.”

“Oh, I know,” Rowena spat out, venom in her tone. “I’ve only been picking up his pieces for years now, Castiel. I look forward to the day our companies merge,” she turned her gaze over to Crowley, who was sitting rigid a few feet next to Cas. “And when will that be? Last I heard you decided on June, correct?”

“Indeed,” Crowley responded, fingers reaching over to curl around Cas’s knee. “We need to choose a date, but a quick courthouse ceremony should suffice with a lavish reception, right darling?”

Cas only nodded in response, trying to roll off the chill he felt when Crowley dug his fingers into his leg. He took a long sip of his wine and relished in the warmth that rolled down his throat, filling him with a light buzz.

Rowena placed her napkin on the table, salad barely touched as she pushed up from her chair. “Well, that is lovely. I cannot wait for that day to come, but alas, I must run. Before I arrived I received a call from Abaddon and she needs my assistance at the Kansas City headquarters.”

Crowley pushed up from his chair too and gestured to the plates in front of them. “Won’t you stay for dinner, Mother? The chef is going to be serving us your favorite chicken parmesan.”

“I wish I could, but my flight back to London leaves in the mornin’ and Abaddon won’t be left waiting.” She walked over to Crowley’s side and laid a hand on his cheek, fingers making marks on his pasty skin. “But I’ll be back soon, Fergus. Don’t forget that.”

Crowley pulled his lips up into a tight, insincere smile. “Yes, I will remember that. Good travels, Mother.”

Rowena pulled her fingers away from his face and trekked towards the door. “I expect you two to work out a date by the time I see you again,” she called as she walked out of the room, hips swaying. “Good luck with your musical, Castiel!”

A second later, the door closed behind her with a clap and Cas was alone with Crowley.

“Well, isn’t she a piece of work,” Crowley muttered under his breath as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

“At least that’s one thing we agree on,” Cas murmured back as he got up from his place. He began turning towards the door to leave, but Crowley’s hand caught his forearm.

“Where are you going?” Crowley asked, clearly put off.

Cas blinked back at him. “Home?”

“And disrespect Chef Boulor like that? I am aghast, Castiel. I thought your father, though he a piece of shit, taught you better.” He let Crowley lead him towards the table and repressed the chill that ran through him when Crowley’s hands grazed his lower back. “We will eat, then go back to the apartment for glasses of wine. I expect a full body massage afterwards as payment for you being late.”

Crowley went on to wax poetic about which places were bothering him, but when he began talking about a pain in his thigh, Cas tuned out.

Instead, he grabbed his unfinished wine and began downing the glass, hoping getting a bit tipsy would prepare him for a night in Crowley’s bedroom, working out the tightness in his muscles while he made obscene noises. He felt disgusted just thinking about it, and for a fleeting second, Cas allowed himself the pleasure of imagining what it would be like if Dean was there instead. He could practically envision his hands working over Dean’s bare body, fingers caressing the muscles in his legs, back, shoulders. Knowing Dean, he would writhe underneath his touch, probably letting breathy groans get out while Cas worked him over. The image brought a rising blush to his cheeks as he let the fantasy expand. He envisioned himself leaning forward to kiss Dean’s lower back as he caressed circles into the muscles there, tongue darting out to taste the saltiness of his skin. His fingers clenched around the edge of the table as he imagined how Dean would look beneath him, blissed out from his touches and kisses.

“Castiel? What is wrong with you?”

The fantasy broke into a thousand pieces and Cas reeled as he was dragged back into reality. Crowley eyed him from across the table and he blushed when he caught his dazed expression in one of the mirrors behind Crowley’s head.

“Nothing,” he muttered under his breath, trying to calm the tightness that had appeared in his pants.

Crowley smiled ferally at him. “If you want to up the ante in our relationship, you can just ask, darling.”

And if that wasn’t the fastest way to quell his libido, he didn’t know what was.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary,” Cas got out through gritted teeth. “It’s the Zinfandel, that’s all.”

Crowley looked like he wanted to argue, but decided against it at the last moment. “Just know that the offer is always on the table,” he said with a wink.

Cas just chugged the last of his glass and didn’t respond. Even considering him and Crowley _together_ made him squirm in his chair.

The rest of the night went smoothly, and Cas was grateful when Crowley’s phone blared loudly on their walk back to the apartment. They paused in an alley as Crowley berated Abaddon over the phone, then left Cas alone to go take care of a problem at the headquarters. He wandered the rest of the way home by himself, then collapsed into bed once he stepped inside. Alcohol always tended to make him tired, so he let himself drift off with images of Dean’s lips in his mind, wondering how he was ever going to give him up.


	19. Chapter 19

Dean didn’t think he’d ever been happier for a holiday in his life. After Sam told Dean about the budget problems, they’d been working overtime to come up with a plan. They needed cash, especially if that mysterious donor who texted Sam turned out to be a scam artist or some other type of con man, so they all agreed to chip in. Jess was able to work a few extra hours over the holidays at the retail store she managed. Sam picked up a part time job as a waiter at the campus cafe, and Dean weaseled his way into Rufus’s good graces when he let him drive the Impala and was able to secure a part time gig fixing up classics at his garage. It wasn’t enough to get them fully out of debt, but at least they wouldn’t feel completely pathetic. 

Rehearsals got off-kilter too as the winter break drew nearer. The seniors were chomping at the bit to take their finals, and getting them to focus was near impossible. The younger ones were caught up in the flurry of major changes and fall flings coming to an end, which left little attention left for the production. By the time their last rehearsal before winter break came around, Dean was ready to throttle the entire cast. He couldn’t deal with _Gabriel_ being the most calm one there. 

Yet they survived it, and now winter break was upon them, long and inviting. Dean used the extra time to pack up his things and switch bedrooms with Sam, who was practically living with Jess these days at her much larger townhouse off campus. With the extra space, Dean was able to finally set up his coveted record player and fill Sam’s old bookcases with Zeppelin tracks and AC/DC classics he got from his dad a few years back, plus he was able to upgrade from the tiny twin in the guest bedroom to a queen sized mattress with memory foam. That, along with the fresh coat of paint and the other trinkets he uncovered in his long untouched deep storage container made the room fully Dean’s, and for the first time since he returned to Lawrence, he felt at home. 

But now he truly was returning home, back to the house where he grew up. He could already imagine the cobblestone walkways leading up to the white paneled bungalow, the coffee colored window sills where freshly baked pies rested, just waiting to be eaten. He could remember the vast garden his mother used to keep in the backyard (and the amount of times they were yelled at for trampling through it as kids, chasing butterflies or pretending they were superheroes until the sun set in the western sky.) It made Dean grin widely as he placed his duffle bag into the back seat of the Impala and slammed the door shut, a warmth filling him when he realized that in just a few short hours he’d be back in his hometown where everything would be exactly as he left it. 

Well, not everything. There was one addition that would be tagging along, and Dean couldn’t wait to show him off. 

“Almost ready to go?” Dean called when he glanced over and found Sam’s arms filled with two pink duffles. 

“Almost,” Sam grunted as he put the luggage down in the Impala’s trunk. “You don’t mind taking Jess’s duffels, do you? They don’t fit in her Bug.” 

Dean smirked up at his brother. “Oh, this is Jess’s luggage? I thought it was yours, Samantha.” 

Sam growled at him and knocked into his shoulder as he walked by. “Cute,” he called sarcastically as he traversed back up the stairs and into the apartment again, almost running into Jess on the way. 

Jess whistled under her breath as she caught a glance at Sam’s bitch face. “Damn, what did you say to him?” she asked while trudging down the stairs, luggage in tow.

Dean grabbed for the suitcases and fit them into the backseat of the car. “Oh you know, the usual. Brother bickering and the like.” 

“Don’t rile him up too much; I’m the one who has to drive with him after all,” she warned, pointing a finger in his direction.

“I wouldn’t dare!” Dean called out when Jess began walking back up to the apartment and Sam appeared in the doorway again, looking a lot less annoyed than before. 

“What’s the plan, then?” Sam asked as he loaded the last of the luggage into Dean’s car. “You picking up Cas at his apartment?” 

“Yep,” Dean replied, rearranging a few things before shutting the trunk. “We’re gonna grab a bite on the road and then drive straight through.” 

Sam nodded and then looked at the ground, hands in his pockets. It was his usual stance for when he was about to get all touchy feely or whatnot. Dean had to focus on not rolling his eyes. 

“It’s a real nice thing you’re doing for Cas, inviting him to our Christmas when Crowley’s gone on business. I couldn’t imagine a holiday without Jess anymore, so I know how tough that’s gotta be.” Sam clapped Dean on the arm and said, “You’re a good friend, you know that?”

Dean tried to put on a smile for his brother, but it wasn’t easy when he pondered just how off Sam was about this whole thing. Of course there were days when he wished he could tell his brother everything, but he made a promise to Cas that he intended to keep. Their relationship needed to look platonic on the surface, because if anyone found out about their romantic rendezvous, they’d both be in deep shit from all sides. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m awesome,” Dean replied with a smirk as he climbed into the Impala and rolled down the window. “Hey, call me when you reach Nebraska. We can stop at a roadhouse or somethin’ like that.”

“Will do. Just don’t make Cas sit through your mullet rock the entire way,” Sam teased as he closed Dean’s door. 

Dean gave him the finger as he drove off, Sam’s aghast expression fading in the distance as Dean looked in his mirror. 

He kept the window rolled down long after he left the apartment. The chill felt good against his skin as he drove through downtown Lawrence. It nipped his nose and offset the eighty degree heat his car was radiating, the dials glued on the ‘hot’ position from a prank Sam pulled on him earlier in the week. He couldn’t wait to get into his toolbox and fix the damn thing, because there was no way he was waiting until he was back in Rufus’s garage to work on it. 

He was thinking about car repairs when he pulled up to the address Cas gave him. At first he thought his GPS got it wrong, because there was no way this was Cas’s apartment. This was the nicest complex in the whole city, a place where wait lists were years long and only the rich could afford to live. He knew that Cas came from money, and that Crowley’s mother probably was putting them up there, but really? This was beyond luxury; no, this was where the famous would live if Lawrence was a town of any prestige. 

But when Dean checked the address Cas texted him, it was the building he was parked in front of. With a little bit of timidness, Dean got out of the car and walked through the front doors, gaping when he was greeted by a valet before getting into an elevator and riding up to Cas’s floor. When it dinged the fifth time, Dean trudged out into a lavish, borderline blingy hallway with ornate mirrors lining the walls and pictures of old aristocrats perched on coffee tables and the like.

He felt completely out of place, especially when he walked up to Cas’s door and found a solid bronze knocker attached in the shape of a lion. Sighing, Dean hit his palm against it three or four times before Cas opened the door in a flurry, toothbrush perched between his teeth as he looked at Dean with wide eyes. 

“Oh...em serry,” Cas mumbled before extracting the toothbrush from his mouth. “Crowley didn’t leave as early as I thought he would so I’m a little behind. Take a seat and I’ll be ready to go after I finish packing up a few things.” 

Cas pointed at the pristinely white couch before running back towards his bedroom, but Dean couldn’t get himself to move. He was afraid of disrupting the cleanliness of the place, and he felt a little ashamed when he looked down at his grimy boots and jeans with frayed edges. What in the world was he getting himself into? His apartment was plaid couches and tacky moose lamps Sam bought at a garage sale a few years back. It was green carpets with questionable stains, old bookcases filled with dusty tomes, and a kitchen where the dishwasher didn’t work ninety percent of the time. 

Cas’s apartment was like walking into a model home. Everything was white, from the walls to the couch to the obscenely large island in the kitchen. Nothing was out of place, and it barely looked lived in at all. The appliances came across as barely used, stainless steel glimmering when the light hit it just right. The couches in the common room were draped with expensive looking blankets that were probably hand made in Indonesia and cost more than Dean’s monthly rent, and the television was easily fifty inches wide. 

Comparing the two felt like Dean was living in a dump, and he felt himself worrying as he thought about where he was taking Cas. His childhood home wasn’t fancy. The doors creaked when you opened them too quickly and the driveway was cracked and they didn’t bother to keep up with weeding. It was tiny and old and it was nothing compared to the world Cas was used to. Would he want to come once he realized that they came from two opposing worlds? 

“Ready!” Cas called as he hauled two duffels into the common room. They were even bigger than Jess’s and looked like they were packed tight. 

“You know we’re only going up there for a few days, right?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Cas toed the bags and shrugged. “I didn’t know what to bring.” 

“Ah, I see. And your solution was just to bring every piece of clothing you own?” Dean said while he gestured to the duffels. 

“It’s cold up there! I need to be warm, Dean.” Cas paused for a moment, as if considering what to say next. When he came up with something, his eyes flashed up to Dean’s and he raised an eyebrow. “Unless you have other ways to keep me warm.” 

Dean shivered when Cas practically prowled towards him and let a lone finger trace patterns down his chest. “Cool it, Casanova,” Dean said as he playfully pushed Cas away. “There’s no time. We gotta get on the road if we’re gonna make it by nightfall.” 

Cas sighed in disappointment but did not disagree. He picked up one of the duffels from the ground while Dean took hold of the other, and they trekked out of the apartment and to the elevator in silence. It wasn’t until they had the car loaded up and they were driving away when Cas spoke again. 

“What’s your family like?” Cas asked. 

He glanced over and found Cas peering out the window, fingers clasped in his lap. The question took Dean off guard, because despite the long nights they’ve spent talking, his family had rarely come up in conversation. Usually they chatted about dreams, or Cas’s classes, or Dean’s new job at the garage. It never occurred to him that while Dean knew tons about Cas’s family, Cas knew little about Dean’s. 

“It’s...complicated,” Dean said after a long pause, fingers clenching the steering wheel tighter. “There’s Sammy, of course, and me. My mom is a gardener who owns a flower boutique downtown, and also does a few freelance projects during the spring season. You are gonna love her, Cas.” Dean felt his eyes widen and his lips pull up into grin when he imagined Mary’s baby blue eyes and hair as blonde as wheat. “She’s the best damn cook in town, ask anyone. Oh and she’s gonna treat you like her own within a day of being there. Only took a few hours before she started referring to Jess as the daughter she never had,” Dean said with a laugh, remembering the way Mary took to Jess when they bonded over their love of cheesy 80s films. 

Cas nodded next to him and hummed. “I am excited to meet her.” He waited a bit before saying, “And your father?” 

Dean felt himself tense up when John’s face came into his mind. “That’s the complicated part.” He tried to not grit his teeth and feel his cheeks burn with an anger he thought he’d long left behind, but talking about his father was like peeling back a bandage, uncomfortable and borderline painful. He took a breath before replying, “Dad’s dead. Hunting accident. Was out trying to get big game in the mountains when he was attacked by a bear a few years back. It was terrible. And to make things even worse, a few days after we laid him to rest, we found out that he had another family.” 

He heard the belated, sharp intake of breath next to him. Dean didn’t blame Cas for it. The whole thing was straight from a soap opera, after all. 

“Mom and Dad were on the verge of divorce when I was a kid,” Dean began, eyes trained on the car in front of them as his mind flew with images twenty years in the past. “Dad was obsessed with hunting. He’d be out every night in the woods trying to take down any animal he could find, and wasn’t around to put me to bed, or take care of Sam when Mom was working late at the shop. One day, she gave him an ultimatum: the sport or his family. His things were out of the house by the next morning.” 

“That’s terrible,” Cas murmured next to him. 

“Yeah, it sucked. I was four when he left and Sam was just a baby. For that month, I was takin’ care of Sam more than anyone. Feedin’ him when Mom was pulling long hours at the shop, putting him to bed for naps, singing him ‘Hey Jude’ when he cried. All while Dad was off banging another woman while he was still married to my Ma.” He jumped a little at the nickname he used to call his mom as a child. Funny how easily it slipped through his lips. 

Cas’s hand landed on his knee and Dean brushed his fingers over Cas’s knuckles. The contact helped ebb the tidal wave that always came when he thought of his father’s second family, the one he dared keep from them. It wasn’t something he could forgive lightly, and a part of Dean was brewing with bitterness that he didn’t get a chance to give his old man a piece of his mind before he bit it. Who goes off and leaves their wife and kids for hunting game, and then hides a whole family from them? He just couldn’t understand it, even after all these years. 

“I don’t want to intrude,” Cas said when quiet buzzed between them, “but have you ever met this other family?” 

“Only once,” Dean replied, clipped and a little cold. “The woman, Kate, is a little younger than Mom and lives a few towns over. She came to the memorial and was decent enough not to drop the bomb on us about who she really was.” He paused before revealing the fact that hurt the most. “Uh...Dad had a son with her, too. A kid named Adam who’s about a year younger than Sam, give or take. Heard that he’s pre-med now, a smart kid like Sammy. He, uh, tried to get in contact with me a few times, wanted to be a part of my life, but I just can’t do it. Hurts too much, you know?” 

Cas brought his fingers up and twined them with Dean’s. “I’m sorry your father is a dick.” 

Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That’s the kicker though, he really wasn’t. When he was around, he tried to be there for us as best as he could. After that month he was gone, he quit hunting. Said that he thought long and hard about it and family was more important. Never left us again after that, even though him and mom never completely rebounded from their almost divorce.” 

A quiet filled the car for a bit, and Dean curled his fingers into Cas’s palm to calm himself. He didn’t want to mistakenly lash out at Cas because he was bitter about his father, so he tried to think about the good things John did. He took a breath and remembered the way his father would come home after a hunt and pull Dean into his arms, smelling of whiskey and leather and the forest behind their house. He could practically feel his father’s rough hands on him as he whisked Dean from the ground and twirled him around in the air while Mary looked on from the kitchen, laughter lines appearing as she took in her husband and son. He glanced down at the rattling vents filled with army men him and Sam shoved in there when they were kids, and recalled how his father just laughed when he learned of his boys’ antics. He felt his bitterness ebb a bit when he remembered how his father sat him down when he was thirteen and taught him the importance of treating a woman right, and not blinking an eye when Dean asked if the same applied to men, too.

Because of these things, there were times when Dean wished he was still living in blissful ignorance. If Kate never came forward, if he never knew of his father’s affair, would he be able to go visit his father’s grave without wanting to turn around? Would they be able to speak of John without changing the subject at family dinners, or hugging their mother when she got teary eyed? 

“You’re tense,” Cas noted, and only then did Dean realize that he was practically clawing his fingers into Cas’s hand. 

Dean relaxed and let out a sigh. “Sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I can relate, you know,” Cas said in a low voice. “Even though my father sold me like a donkey in ancient times, he isn’t always an asshole.” 

Dean flicked his eyes over to Cas at that. “Really?” 

Cas smiled sadly and looked out the window. “Yes. Before the business crashed, I was enrolled in the best classes growing up, took all the right lessons. My friends adored him because he’d buy them gifts and take us out for ice cream on the daily. I was actually quite the chubby child because of that,” Cas said with a truncated laugh before turning sullen again. “But when things went south, he didn’t know how to cope. Of course you know where that landed us.” 

Another punch of quiet went through the car before Dean pulled his fingers from Cas’s grasp. He reached down for the water bottles Sam put in his car before he left and held one out for Cas to grab. 

“A toast,” Dean quickly declared as he brought his bottle into the air, “to daddy issues beyond compare.”

Cas grinned, knocking the cap of his bottle against Dean’s. “Amen to that.”


	20. Chapter 20

They drove for a few more hours before catching up to Jess and Sam at a restaurant outside of Nebraska. It was a rundown place that reminded Cas of their Roadhouse in Lawrence, just with better beer and more ambiance (not that he’d ever tell Ellen that.) They consumed a few burgers and fries, talking about all the things they’d do once they got to Sam and Dean’s hometown. Dean was determined to get Jess out on the ice rink in downtown, but just the words made her cringe. Normally, Cas would’ve laughed and taunted Jess about it, but at that moment he was too busy trying not to sweat through his clothes.

It wasn’t like going to Dean’s hometown and meeting his mother was a big deal. To everyone around them, Cas would just be Dean’s friend who didn’t have a place to go for the holidays. It wasn’t like he had to particularly impress Mary as a future in-law or anything like that, so why was he this nervous?

Cas didn’t think he was being obvious about his discomfort, but once they were back on the road they only got a few miles before Dean turned to him and said, “Okay, what gives? You barely said a word back there.”

Cas glanced away and fiddled with the radio for a few seconds before curling his fingers together. “It’s nothing,” he replied with the wave of his hand, but Dean didn’t buy it.

“No, there’s something wrong. You never pass up an opportunity to make fun of Jess. What’s up?”

“It’s…” he petered off, teeth biting his lip. “I’m worried about this trip. Do you really think your mom will like me?”

Dean looked at him like he’d grown three heads. “Like you? Cas, I can assure you that my mom will love you. I mean...look at you. A nice kid from New York with good manners and an even better ass, who wouldn’t like that?”

Cas paused, taking in Dean’s words, then pulled his lips into a feral grin. “Are you suggesting that your mother will like my ass?” Cas taunted, and then laughed when Dean’s eyes went wide out of disgust.

“Ew! Okay, I totally didn’t mean it that way. Thanks for that, Cas!”

He giggled next to Dean and reached over for the radio dial, tuning between various static-filled stations while Dean was recovering next to him. He was about to flip through another round of indiscernible white noise when Dean’s hand came to rest on his.

“Hold up, I’ve got something for ya,” Dean interjected with a brightness in his eyes. He fiddled around with a few buttons before a familiar run of opening notes filled the quiet.

“You did not-”

 _“One year of love,”_ Dean bellowed out with soft eyes turned on Cas. _“...is better than a lifetime alone!”_

“Dean, you didn’t-”

 _“One sentimental moment in your arms…”_ Dean trailed off while he tapped out the beat against the steering wheel. “C’mon, Cas. Sing it out.”

Cas let out a snort and kicked his feet up on the dash. “If we sing it too often, it’s gonna lose it’s importance.”

“Will not!” Dean countered back like an insolent child. “If anything, it just shows how much we need each other.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

“Yeah, Cas. Really. Now c’mon, our favorite part is coming up. Will you sing it for me?”

Damn Dean and his ability to pull out those puppy dog eyes that turned Cas into a puddle at his feet.

“ _My lips search for your lips…_ ,” Cas belted out while Dean fist pumped in victory next to him.

The rest of the ride went by like that. The song played once and Cas expected another to follow, but it never did. ‘One Year of Love’ played on repeat as Dean drove along the wide, country roads, clearly pleased with himself that he managed to run the song over and over again. After the fifth time through, Cas tried to fight for radio control back from Dean, which led to a fit of giggles as they wrestled over the dial as Dean tried to keep the Impala driving straight. Eventually Cas admitted defeat, and for the rest of the ride endured listening to the same damn song at least ten times before Dean took pity on them both and changed to a Zeppelin tune on the radio.

The sky was crystal clear as they pulled up to a rundown bungalow on the outskirts of North Dakota’s border. Dean turned the key and gestured to the building in front of them.

“This is it,” Dean said quietly.

Cas peered through the window and took in the house. It was quaint, and nothing like he was used to. Crowley loved everything luscious and over the top; crystals and the best technology money could buy filled their apartment, but Cas never liked any of it. He preferred a quieter lifestyle, much like the one he was looking at now. Dean’s childhood home was beautiful in its own right. The paint was chipping in places, which showed that it was an older building that had been well loved. He could imagine a young Dean running through the yard with Sam in tow, little feet prancing through the well kept flower beds that lined the walkway. He felt himself gaping at the rotting swingset in their backyard, amazed that Dean’s mother never thought to take it down when her children were grown. His father never was sentimental like that, and Cas felt himself glow at this whole new world he was about to experience.

“It’s beautiful,” Cas whispered as he pushed out of the car. “Look at all the stars you can see here. It’s incredible.”

Dean blushed next to him and grabbed their luggage from the trunk. “You don't think it’s...I don’t know...too run down?”

Cas couldn’t fathom what Dean was saying. “It’s perfect.”

Watching Dean light up at those words brought a whole new wave of affection, and Cas caught himself thinking something that brought butterflies to his gut.

_Is this what love feels like?_

He pushed off that thought and grabbed the duffel bag Dean was holding out for him to take. It wasn’t the time to think about such things, he knew, but as he watched Dean talk on and on about his home and the things they used to do there, Cas couldn’t help but wonder if the warmth he felt around Dean was more than just a fondness.

“You’re gonna love my mom, Cas,” Dean said as they traversed up the walkway and to the wooden door.

He knocked three times before he leaned back on his heels and curled his fingers tighter around the duffel bag. “She’s the best.”

“I hope you’re talking about me,” a female voice called out from behind them.

Cas turned around and found a woman standing before them. She was probably in her late forties or early fifties, Cas would assume from the laughter lines around her lips and eyes. Her irises were a denim blue and her hair a golden blonde, flowing down past her shoulders in an array of loose curls. Her cheeks were rosy and the way she looked at Cas was filled with an affection he’d only seen in movies. He knew immediately that this must be Dean’s mother.

Dean’s smile was bright enough to light up the dark twilight around them. “Mom,” he whispered while he leaned in, pulling her into a hug.

Mary Winchester hugged back with a large grin on her face. “Dean,” she muttered into his neck, and left a kiss there before pulling away. “It’s been too long, you know that?”

Dean blushed and rubbed the back of his ear. “Sorry about that, Ma,” he said quietly. “I’ve been busy with this production, and Sammy’s been up in arms about anyone takin’ time off from rehearsals.”

Mary laughed at that, her voice light and trilling around them. “Oh believe me, I know how your brother can get. He’s more like your father than he’ll ever realize,” she mused with a weak smile.

Dean nodded in agreement before his eyes opened wide. “Oh Mom, this is Cas!” he exclaimed, gesturing to him like he was Vana White and Cas was the board on _Wheel of Fortune_.

Mary smiled kindly at him and held out a hand for him to take. “Hi there, Cas. I’m Mary. Dean’s told me a lot about you.”

Cas took her palm and held it for a minute, unsure of when to let go. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winchester.” he said with a grin, and Mary returned it.

He let go when Mary began shaking her head. “Call me Mary; Mrs. Winchester is my mother-in-law,” she smirked as she put her hands on her hips. “Now, what are we doing out here? Jess and Sam are already inside and dinner’s almost on the table.”

Dean took a deep breath and exhaled in a moan. “Is that burgers I smell?”

Mary knocked into his arm as she passed by and opened the door. “You bet.”

Dean rolled his eyes as Mary walked through the entrance and made her way to the kitchen. Cas was about to follow, but Dean caught his arm and dragged him into the nearby mud room.

“What the-”

“Shh, they’ll hear us,” Dean whispered playfully as he dipped his head and left a kiss on Cas’s lips.

He responded immediately and brought his fingers up to card through Dean’s hair. He gasped when Dean’s teeth caught on his lower lip and his hands began to grip Cas’s hips in a vice.

“Dean,” he muttered into his neck, but Dean just pulled away with amused eyes.

“That was for tryin’ to change my radio earlier,” he murmured with a smirk on his face, then left Cas behind as he walked slowly through the hallway, hips swaying in a sensual manner.

Cas wiped his lips with the back of his hand. It was going to be a long weekend.

After composing himself, Cas followed Dean into the kitchen where Sam and Jess were. He found Jess pulling out condiments and buns for the burgers, and Cas walked over to help. A light chatter filled the room as they talked about Mary’s business and the production, Jess’s post college plans and Dean’s work at the garage. And when they took their seats at the table and began eating the burgers Mary grilled, the conversation turned towards her incredible cooking skills and the cherry pie she had lined up for dessert.

All of it was foreign to Cas. They never did family dinners besides him and his father sitting in silence, eating whatever they could pick up at a drive thru or cook from a box. Holidays were even less special. Usually Cas was at home alone with a babysitter while his father gambled away his Christmas bonus.

With Dean’s family, dinner was filled with joking and laughter. Cas found himself blushing on more than one occasion as Sam praised his acting in the musical and Jess explained how they first met all those years ago. That flowed into Cas talking about his theatre roles, Dean butting in with his own when Jess asked. When Mary pulled out a bottle of wine after dinner was finished and they were all filled with burgers and pie, the party truly began when Dean got a little too tipsy and insisted they play a round of Cards Against Humanity. They laughed and giggled as Mary kept winning hand after hand, and by the time they were finished Sam was beet red from his mom’s dirty cards she kept playing.

When they called it a night, Cas was positive it was the most fun he’d had in ages, and when he curled up on the Winchesters’ couch and fell asleep, he dreamed of what life would be like if he was raised like this.

 

* * *

 

 

There were certain things the Winchesters did on Christmas morning, Dean told Cas earlier. Opening presents while old records played in the background, eating Mary’s famous pancakes, and drinking ale until they couldn’t walk straight were the three pinpoints, and one never dared to upset their traditions.

But there was one thing Dean didn’t mention to Cas.

“Wake up!” Dean voiced roared in his ears, causing Cas’s eyes to fly open while he nearly fell off the couch.

When he jerked up from his position, he found Dean in a pair of Batman pajamas, eyes glimmering and bright. He could barely contain his excitement, feet tapping against the floor while he began clapping his hands. It was adorable...except for one thing.

“It’s 5:30 in the morning,” Cas groaned as he turned back over on the couch. “Go back to bed.”

“C’mon, Cas! It’s Christmas!”

“It’s 5:30,” Cas repeated, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “Too early.”

Dean went quiet for a minute and Cas sighed in relief. They weren’t children. Who needed to be up before the sun? Not him, that’s for certain. But just when Cas thought that the warmth of sleep would capture him again, his cocoon of blankets was thrown from his body.

“What the-,” Cas exclaimed as he jumped up from the couch.

Dean looked on at him with the comforter clutched between one hand and a long, velvet box in the other. “I’m not gonna give you your present if you don’t get up,” Dean teased with an amused glint in his eye, waving the box in front of Cas’s face like a carrot before a race horse. “C’mon, you gotta be itching to know what I got you.”

Cas growled under his breath. “Why can’t you just wait until everyone else is up?” he asked.

Dean blushed a little and toed the floor. “It’s not somethin’ I really want my family to see, Cas,” he mumbled under his breath.

Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean’s comment and slowly walked over to him. “What is it that’s so secretive?” Cas asked.

Dean just handed the box over and shrugged. “Open it and you’ll see.”

Cas’s fingers clutched around the box. He brought one digit up to trace the black velvet before he carefully popped open the top.

“Oh Dean,” Cas whispered as he pulled out the most beautiful ruby gemstone he’d ever laid eyes on, attached to a glinting gold chain. It glittered in the light and was red as a freshly picked apple in autumn, absolutely perfect.

“It’s for your costume,” Dean explained quickly, fingers coming up to brush through his hair. He turned his eyes to the ground as his face turned the color of the jewel in Cas’s hand. “You know, ‘cause...uh...Satine’s always wearing red and they couldn’t afford that pin you were supposed to wear. It was my grandma’s, but we’ll say that you found it on Ebay so no one questions it, but if you aren’t okay with it or Sam says no then we can change to something else-”

“Dean!” Cas exclaimed when Dean began talking faster than his lips could move. He curled his fingers around the gemstone and curled his lips up into a smirk. “It’s perfect.”

Dean relaxed once Cas gave his approval and smiled. “Good, because I spent the entire weekend going through Grandma Campbell’s house to find it,” he said with a laugh. “That woman sure knows how to hoard.”

Cas draped the necklace back into the box and closed it. “Thank you, Dean,” he said with warmth in his eyes.

Dean grunted in assent and then fell into the couch cushions, dragging Cas down with him. “It’s also for you to keep, you know. Crowley won’t question it and...it’s somethin’ to remember me by when you’re gone.”

He glanced down at his hands and Cas felt his heart break all over again. How was he going to leave this all behind?

“Hey, Dean, look at me,” Cas said when Dean kept glancing at the ceiling. He took Dean’s chin between his index finger and thumb, then leaned in to leave a gentle kiss against his lips. “We’ve still got time.”

“Not enough,” he thought he heard Dean mutter, but he didn’t get to comment before the sound of feet began clobbering down the rickety, wooden stairs. Cas turned away from Dean and curled his feet under him as a tired Jess and overly awake Sam came into view.

“Merry Christmas!” Sam exclaimed, loud enough to cause Jess to cringe next to him.

“Indoor voice,” Jess whispered through a yawn, bringing her hand up to cover his mouth. “You’re just as bad as Dean.”

“My brother is a man after my own heart,” Dean replied. He got up from the couch and guided Jess and Sam over to the Christmas tree, then took a seat on the ground. “It’s never too early when it comes to Christmas.”

Jess grumbled something unintelligible before laying down on the floor. Sam plopped down next to her and began running his fingers through her hair, then perused the stacks of presents by his feet while Dean leaned around them to plug in the lights. A thousand twinkles of emerald, ruby, opal filled the dark room, casting everyone in a technicolor glow. It was beautiful, Cas thought to himself.

“What’s everyone doing up this early?” Mary’s voice reverberated through the quiet room when she wandered over to them, eyes half closed like Jess’s. “A woman my age needs her beauty sleep, you know.”

Dean rummaged through the presents while she talked, and then tossed one wrapped in gold paper into his mother’s unsuspecting hands. “C’mon Ma, everyone knows you’re the prettiest woman in town.”

Mary blushed at that before taking a seat on the couch next to Cas. She brushed a piece of golden hair out of her eyes before picking at the edge of the present’s wrapping with her index finger. “You’re just sayin’ that so I will make you chocolate chip pancakes,” she said with a smirk on her lips.

“Only partially,” he replied, then gestured with open palms towards Mary’s gift. “But presents first. I think you’ll really like what I got you this year.”

Mary quirked an eyebrow up at Dean before ripping off the first edge of the paper. “Nothing can beat that gift you got me when you were five,” she teased, and Sam snorted from the ground before bursting out into laughter.

“That was a good one,” Sam mumbled under his breath.

“What did he get you?” Cas asked as he turned towards Dean, who at that point had turned a deep vermillion.

“It’s nothin’,” he mumbled, but Sam was all too eager to jump in with details.

“He put on a show about how great Mom is,” Sam supplied as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Got dressed up in her makeup and everything.”

“It wasn’t funny!” Dean interjected with his hands raised.

“It was, honey,” Mary said through her giggles. She turned to Cas as she continued. “He even did a little musical number with an original song. What was it called…”

“I Wuv Hugs, I think,” Sam snickered.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Dean grunted. He curled his legs underneath him as he threw a pillow at Sam’s head. “Just open the present, will ya?”

Mary laughed and tossed a pillow back at Dean. “It’s all in good fun, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, but didn’t get to brood much before an excited gasp escaped Mary’s lips.

“Dean!” she exclaimed, bringing up a bracelet of pearls for all to glance at. “How did you find this?”

Dean shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “Amazin’ what you can find when you ravage Grandma Campbell’s house,” he said with a grin.

“Dude, is this the original?” Sam asked in awe, gaping at the bracelet like it was an original Picasso painting instead of a piece of jewelry.

“Yeah, it is. It was under a pile of boxes and I just happened to find it. Really, it isn’t a big dea- oh c’mon, don’t cry, Ma,” Dean said as he crawled over to Mary and began rubbing circles into her hand.

Mary brought a finger up to brush away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. It was a clearly intimate moment, and Cas almost felt like he was intruding. When Mary began to mutter her thanks to Dean and Sam came over to pull her into a hug, Cas excused himself from the couch. Jess was wandering into the kitchen area so Cas followed behind, pushing through the door that separated the rooms and remaining quiet until Jess took a seat at the table, gesturing for him to join her.

“What’s so important about that bracelet?” Cas asked in a whisper.

Jess turned her gaze to the wood grain in the table and folded her hands on top of it. “After John died and his affair came out, Mary ridded the house of anything he owned. She was angry, with good right to be, and thought a clean break would be best to move on. The only thing that she kept was a pearl bracelet he bought her as a wedding present, and after her anger subsided she regretted throwing everything of his away. She cherished that bracelet, but lost it back when I first started dating Sam freshman year.” Jess paused, a timid smile breaking across her face. “It must mean the world to have it back.”

Cas blinked at her, his mind flying back to the necklace Dean got him. Suddenly it felt like so much more than just a gift; it was a promise, a vow to never forget. He felt himself blushing and tried to turn away from Jess before she caught on.

“Hey, where did you guys go?” Cas heard Dean’s voice echo throughout the kitchen. “You’re missing the fun!”

Jess eyed him with a wry grin then got up from her chair. “Better get back out there. Dean waits for no one when it comes to presents.”

Cas nodded and trailed after her out into the living room. Dean patted the ground beside him and Cas sat down, blanching at the pile of presents with his name on it. He expected something from Dean, and sometimes he and Jess exchanged presents too, but the first one he picked up was from Mary, and the next one Jess & Sam.

“Well, open them!” Dean exclaimed when Cas just stared at the tower before him.

With tentative fingers, Cas began working through the presents. The first one from Mary was a hand crocheted hat and a homemade hot chocolate mix in a mason jar, followed by Jess’s present of a new copy of the _Moulin Rouge!_ soundtrack because he’d worn his CD out over the years. Sam gave him a new fedora for his costume after finding the one Dean crushed under his foot backstage a few weeks back along with a few books on musical theater, and even Dean burned him a mix CD with various classic rock tunes on it to “educate Cas on the finer points in music history,” he cited.

The rest of the morning was dedicated to gifts. Sam got a few books about directing to add to his collection while Jess got a few dresses and tickets to a Broadway in Chicago show from Sam. Dean’s gifts varied from vinyl records to new tools to a few flannels Mary picked out that matched his eyes. And of course Jess gifted Mary with a box set of John Hughes films, which brought another wide smile to Mary’s lips.

They followed up presents with those chocolate chip pancakes Dean wanted, and Cas felt like he was eating ambrosia. The ratio of fluffiness from the batter to denseness from the chips couldn’t be more perfect, and he also enjoyed the flustered look that flew to Dean’s face when Cas began moaning around his fork.

The afternoon was lazy, and Cas was eager for some alone time with Dean when Sam and Jess went upstairs for a nap. They meandered out into the forest behind the bungalow while Mary was preparing dinner and kicked the tough ground with their boots, muttering about how it isn’t Christmas without snow. That led to Cas complaining about winter, Dean saying he’s deluded for preferring warmth over cold, and a tackle into a nearby tree when Cas playfully tripped Dean with his foot. They tumbled into one another and kissed through giggles, hoping that the bitter North Dakota chill would be a good excuse for their swollen lips when they trudged back inside a few hours later.

The final act of the night was Mary’s elaborate Christmas dinner. Ham, turkey, potatoes, carrots, every type of bread you could want was lined out on the kitchen counters, and Cas snickered when he found Dean practically drooling next to him. They loaded up their plates and dug in, too busy stuffing their mouths with food to contribute to any intriguing conversation, and the ale Mary provided didn’t help with coherency. They ate and drank until they were full, and at the end of the meal, Mary pulled out two beautifully baked blueberry pies.

(Dean and Sam did wrestle for the last piece, just like last year. Cas got quite the kick out of Dean’s grumpiness when he lost.)

When everyone was well drunk on ale and sleepy-eyed, Dean dragged Cas upstairs to his bedroom when everyone had gone to bed. They quietly tiptoed through corridors until they entered a tiny, well lit room with lime green walls and Star Trek posters plastered to the ceiling.

“This is my place,” Dean whispered as he quietly closed the door. “Quite the digs, ain’t it?”

“It’s...lived in,” Cas said with awe.

Dean lifted one edge of his mouth into a smirk. “Lived in?”

“Trust me, that’s a compliment,” Cas said as he let his fingers trail over the creases in the comforter on Dean’s bed. He fell into the fluffy blankets and perched himself in the corner, smiling when Dean came to join him.

“How is that a compliment?” Dean questioned.

Cas curled his feet underneath him. “My room growing up was like a model home’s. Father wasn’t pleased when I would let it get dirty, so he hired a maid to clean the house every day. I never got a chance to put up posters, or collect rocks, or anything,” he said with a shrug. “It’s just an alternate way of growing up, I guess.”

Dean put an arm around his waist and pulled him close. “You need to quit it with talkin’ about your childhood. It’s bumming me out,” he said with downturned eyes.

Cas laughed next to him and leaned his head against Dean’s collarbone. “Trust me, if I could change anything about my world, I would grow up like you and Sam did.” He turned towards Dean and looked into his eyes. “Thanks, by the way, for inviting me along. I’ve never had a Christmas as good as this one.”

Dean pecked a kiss on the top of his head and smiled back. “I’m glad you came, Cas. Everyone deserves at least one good Christmas experience. Glad I could be yours before...you know.”

He felt his gut clench at Dean’s words. He’d been able to forget, even if just for a day, about Crowley and their forced bond. Remembering brought him crashing down back into reality, and Cas felt himself absentmindedly reaching for Dean’s necklace that he put in his pocket earlier. He fished for it and pulled it out, holding it up to the light.

“Put it on,” Dean said after admiring it for a minute. “I wanna see the way it looks on you.”

Cas didn’t need to be prompted. He was eager to wear the necklace, wondered if he’d feel even closer to Dean with it on his body. Scooching forward, Cas climbed to the edge of the bed while Dean perched behind him. He handed the gem over and let out a little gasp of anticipation when he felt Dean’s cold fingers brush against the back of his neck. And when it fell into place against his breastbone, Cas breathed out in awe when he saw it in the mirror. It looked impossibly beautiful against his black t-shirt, the ruby red glimmering like a beacon in a starless night. He brought a finger up and trailed it against the cool stone, still in awe that something so tiny could be so breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Do you like it?” Dean murmured into his ear, breath wisping over his skin.

Cas shivered and nodded. “I love it,” he replied.

Dean grinned at the mirror and leaned his chin down on Cas’s shoulder, and it took everything in Cas to hold back the words that were bubbling at his lips. Looking at them together, Dean’s head rested gently against his body, brought a surge of warmth Cas had never felt before. He felt almost on fire, like a blazing sunset or an open flame, unbreakable and flickering with light. When Cas caught Dean’s eye when he turned his head, the adoration he found there was overwhelming. Nobody ever looked at Cas that way, like he was something prized or cherished. It was then, and only then, that Cas confirmed what he was feeling, could put a name to the fluttering in his breast or the giddiness that was a constant these days.

Love. It was love. He was in love with Dean Winchester.

The realization brought Cas no peace. Instead, he felt his whole world crash around him. He was in love with Dean, this he knew now, but it changed nothing. It didn’t eradicate his engagement, or forgive his father’s crippling debt, or amuse Rowena enough to let him out of this shitshow circus she was running. All it did was remind Cas that he was on a time limit, that he needed to soak up every last ounce of Dean he could get before he was taken from Cas forever.

“...Cas?” Dean asked warily after he caught Cas’s alarmed expression. “You okay?”

Cas turned his lips up into a grin, trying to hide the alarm on his face. “Of course,” he replied quickly, then pushed out of Dean’s arms to stand before the bed. “Just a little tired, that’s all. I...I think I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dean looked at him with a concerned gaze, but didn’t question him. “Okay. Night,” he said as he got up and opened the door for Cas to walk through.

After looking down the hall to be positive no one was around, Cas leaned forward and pecked a quick kiss on Dean’s lips. “Goodnight, Dean,” he said, then turned on his heel before Dean could respond.

He listened for the click of Dean’s door before he climbed down the stairs and navigated his way back to the couch. His blankets were already laid out, probably an act of Mary’s, he’d guess, and it didn’t take much for Cas to peel off his jeans and crawl under the covers. The warmth curled around him, bleaching away the coldness of the bungalow living room, and before Cas could even think about his long list of problems he fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

While Sam enjoyed the intermission from his production, by the time the January 1st rolled around he was ready to get back into it. He woke up that morning with Jess laying by his side, and he kissed her forehead before getting up from her bed and throwing on his jeans and t-shirt. He didn’t want to wake her when she was still on break, so he quietly gathered his things and left the townhouse as best he could.

The winter chill radiated down his neck as he walked into the cold. Shivering, he pulled his coat closer to his body and waited by the bus stop for the first ride into downtown. It was nearly one, and he felt himself tense when his phone vibrated against his leg. When he pulled out the device, that unfamiliar number was there again.

_Enter through the front door when you get here. I will be waiting in room 190. -FC_

Sam pocketed his phone again as the bus roared up. Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Sam wondered if he was doing the right thing. Jess wasn’t the one who found the donor like he assumed, and Sam felt uneasy about going in with no knowledge of who they were. What if this donor turned out to rob him? What if they wanted something Sam couldn’t give them in return? What if they were a crime lord or something else unsavory?

He tried to ignore the doubts he had as he got on the bus and rode until he reached Randolf Road. What other choice was there beside dropping out altogether?

When Sam walked up to the address he was given to meet his mysterious donor, it was not what he was expecting. Sure, the guy warned that it was in a sketchy part of the neighborhood, and that the abandoned movie theater next door doubled as a crack house, but he didn’t think the building would be as worn down as it was. The old, brown brick of the entryway steps was crumbling to pieces, and Sam winced when a part of it broke away beneath his boot. The winding ivy that grew up the front of the building was dried out and yellow, and the door had long, ugly burn marks on the front of it. Not to mention that there was a mysterious odor that was emitting from the sewer next to him, too.

When what sounded like a gunshot rang out a few blocks away, Sam truly began to wonder if he was off his rocker for agreeing to all of this in the first place. Was he really going to trust the word of an anonymous caller who wouldn’t even give out his name? Was he really that desperate for funding?

As if on cue, a beep sounded from his phone that reminded him to pay the costumer her first paycheck.

Yep, he was _that_ desperate, all right.

With a loud, exaggerated sigh, Sam traversed the questionable steps and opened the rusty door. A hallway with dim lighting greeted him when he walked inside. The door closed with an audible, creaky click, and he began wandering down the line of rooms, all of them dark and gloomy. His footsteps reverberated around him, and for some reason he had the uneasy feeling of being watched, like eyes were on the back of his neck. When a cold chill washed over his body, Sam had to wonder if he wandered into the first five minutes of a ghost movie.

Standing up straighter and quickening his pace, Sam kept walking until he came up to a door that stood out from the others. Instead of the bleak beige of the other doors, this was one painted bright green, and he could hear distinct, British muttering on the other side of the wall.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Sam said to no one in particular, then carefully opened the door and slinked inside.

Besides a fold out card table and a few random armchairs, there was no furniture in the room. The walls had chipped off white paint on them, revealing an equally terrible floral pattern underneath. The blinds over the windows were pulled shut, throwing the space into an eerie darkness, but the most off putting part of the room was the man pacing back and forth in front of him.

He was a little heavyset, around his age he’d guess, with almost black hair and a barely there beard. He was wearing a pressed, black suit with a red rose in the lapel, and his fingers were curled around his cell phone, tapping against the metal as he rolled his dull eyes at whatever the other person said.

“No, we need that deal to go through _today._ My mother will certainly hear about this if it doesn’t, Alistair.” The donor paused in his pacing to take a seat at one of the mismatched armchairs, and then leaned his elbow onto the card table. “Yes, yes, I understand. Tell Abaddon that I will not take no for an answer. Now if you would excuse me, I have other matters to take care of.” Without a goodbye, the donor ended the call then slowly, almost creepily, turned in Sam’s direction.

“Moose!” the man called out jovially, and then got up from his chair to walk forward with open arms. “Nice to meet you after our phone correspondence.”

Sam just gaped at the man. _Wait...did he just call me Moose?_ “Uhm…” Sam babbled unhelpfully, “hi?”

The donor held out his hand for Sam to shake, and he took it cautiously. The man’s grip was firm, too firm. Sam practically had to rip his hand from the other man’s when he wouldn’t let go willingly. There was something off about the guy, that was certain, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it yet.

“Take a seat, will you?” the donor said as he gestured to the armchair on the left side of the table. Sam complied and fell into a chair quickly. The man pushed a few buttons on his phone before pocketing it and taking a seat, too.

“So, word on the block is that you are in a bit of a bind, Sam,” the man said with pushed down eyebrows. “I think I can be of assistance to you, for a price of course.”

Sam leaned his elbows on the table and eyed the man harshly. “I’m not making any deals with you until I get some answers.”

The man leaned back in his chair and threw out his arms. “Then ask away.”

“How did you even find me or know who I was? You apologized to me by name back at Celestial but we’ve never met before. How did you know I was in financial trouble, or even get my phone number?”

The man quirked one of his eyebrows up and laughed once. “You will find that information is easily accessible if you know the right people. Plus, Castiel alluded to some financial hardships for your little production you’re putting on, is that right?”

Sam’s eyes opened wide. “You know Cas?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I know Castiel. He is my fiancé, after all.”

 _Of course._ “You’re Crowley?”

“The one and only,” he said grandiosely, gesturing to himself like he was a prized pig that Sam just bought. “Not what you were envisioning?”

“Ah...no, not really,” Sam admitted, pushing a piece of hair behind his ear and blushing profusely. “I kinda got the impression that you’d be…uh…”

“A bit taller, perhaps?” Crowley finished.

Sam just gaped at him and shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess. Cas doesn’t really talk about you at all, really.”

For some reason, that made Crowley’s overly enthusiastic smile fade into a disinterested frown. “Well, isn’t that a shame, because I tell my colleagues about him all the time. I will need to bring that up with him later.”

“O-kay,” Sam exaggerated and leaned back into the armchair. He flicked his eyes up at Crowley and tried to think of what to say. The energy in the room was filled with tension, and in no way shape or form was Sam comfortable. Every instinct yelled at him to turn around, and he felt like he was about to embark into a shark tank wearing a thousand pounds of bait.

“Let’s discuss business, Samuel,” Crowley said as he reached down and grabbed a thick, black leather binder. He turned it open and revealed a plethora of loose leaf papers and scribbled notes, phone numbers and wait...was that someone’s mug shot he just saw?

“What the-”

“The deal is easy,” Crowley interrupted with a harsh glare, “and you would be an imbecile to pass it up. I give you the money you need to put on the best show possible. No expense will be spared, and because this involves my fiancé, I will not even ask you to pay it back. Consider it a gift from me to you.”

Sam felt his jaw drop open because _what the hell?_ There had to be a catch, because this wasn’t the Crowley that his castmates whispered about behind Cas’s back. This wasn’t Crowley, the business major who was known for being ruthless with his clients, or the man who was known to scare off children when he walked by. Besides being a little off putting, Crowley seemed not _nice_ , but not the fearsome con man he heard of.

“There is one thing I’d like in return, of course?” Crowley asked as he flicked his eyes up to Sam’s.

Sam didn’t even attempt to hide the sigh. “What’s your condition, Crowley?”

“Oh Moose, don’t give me that attitude. My condition is an easy one. I just want full access to your rehearsals, that is all.”

Sam folded his hands on the table and raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it?”

Crowley snorted. “I could give you a list of conditions if you prefer it-”

“That-that won’t be necessary,” Sam got out through blubbering lips. He got up from the chair and offered his hand to Crowley. “You can come whenever you wish. Deal?”

Crowley smiled widely as he shook Sam’s hand. “Deal.”


	22. Chapter 22

“You go out first!”

“No, you!”

“Cas, I went out first last time. They’re going to catch on.”

“I think you’re putting our castmates on too high a pedestal. They won’t notice a thing.”

Cas crossed his arms over his body and leaned back against the closet wall. It was their first rehearsal after winter break and Dean was on high alert. New relationships had popped up over the course of the holidays, and their previous go-to spot to have private conversations (aka make out like horny teens) had been taken over by Kali and Gabriel. Cas felt himself blush when he remembered the compromising position he and Dean found them in when they opened the door, and it wasn’t his finest acting when he mumbled about ‘looking for a broom’ when they asked what Dean and Cas were doing there in the first place.

They thought it a fluke at first; Kali would eat Gabriel for breakfast and nobody thought that they’d last, but from the breathy moans that echoed throughout the surprisingly acoustic halls, it seemed like they weren’t letting go of one another anytime soon.

That is what led them to a janitor’s closet on the outskirt of the stage. It was unused as far as they knew, and it was far enough away from the dressing rooms that no one would catch on if they didn’t show themselves between breaks. But it smelled like bleach and mold, and after a few failed attempts to rile each other up, they both decided there was something extremely unsexy about the smell of ammonia.

Now they needed to escape back to the theater, but Dean was being particularly defensive about who should go out first.

“I don’t get it. What’s the big deal if you go out first?” Cas asked for the thousandth time in five minutes.

“I always go out first! People are gonna catch us,” Dean complained. “I just...I don’t know. Ever since we’ve gotten back here I feel like there’s eyes on the back of my neck.”

Cas brought his fingers up to brush against Dean’s jaw. “You’re worrying over nothing. Everyone’s hooking up these days, and the whole cast knows I’m engaged. If we come in a few seconds apart, I don’t think they will think we’re having sex,” Cas said with a laugh, but it didn’t dislodge the concerned turn of Dean’s lips. “We’ll be okay,” Cas cooed.

Dean turned away and grabbed the doorknob. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Everyone’s too lost in gossiping about Ruby and Meg anyway.”

Cas’s eyes widened. “No way. They’re together too? Who isn’t dating in this cast?” Cas muttered under his breath.

“Eh, if you can’t date your fellow theatre kids then who can you date, really?” Dean asked with a smug smile. He pushed out the door and gestured for Cas to follow.

“Really? We just debated about which order we’re going in and now you want us to walk out hand in hand?” Cas teased.

Dean nudged him with his boot and let the door slam behind them as they meandered down the right wing. “You’re right; I was bein’ too protective. Plus that necklace is kinda conspicuous,” he added, flicking the gem that hadn’t left Cas’s presence since he received it. “If no one is questioning where you got that, then they’re really oblivious, aren’t they?”

Cas hummed in agreement as they approached the ruby curtains that led on stage. He pulled them aside for Dean to walk through and followed close behind, but knocked into Dean when he froze in place.

“Sonuvabitch,” Dean growled under his breath.

“What?” Cas asked, but he didn’t need an answer after Dean stepped aside. He felt his gut drop and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight.

Crowley was standing before them with an amused glint in his eyes. Sam looked like an overeager puppy as he turned around and grinned widely at them.

“There you are!” Sam exclaimed. “We were waiting for you.”

Cas couldn’t move. No. What was Crowley doing here of all places? He hated the arts. He was only letting Cas be a part of this in the first place because Rowena wanted it. Why was he in the one place Cas felt safe? No, it had to be a dream, a nightmare, even.

But when he blinked and pinched himself, Crowley didn’t vanish into thin air.

“What...wha,” Cas babbled incoherently, eyes flying back and forth between Crowley and Dean.

“Surprise, darling,” Crowley said. He quirked up the edges of his lips into an unsettling smile and raised his hands in the air.

“What’s he doing here?” Dean growled out, and Cas had to elbow him in the ribs to calm him down.

Sam’s eyebrows turned down into a line. “Crowley didn’t tell you? He’s the donor for our play!” He turned towards the rest of the cast and smiled. “Guys, we’re gonna be putting on the best production ever because of Crowley’s generosity. Can he get a round of applause?”

Even though Sam was oblivious to Crowley’s upsetting nature, the rest of the cast wasn’t. They eyed Cas warily as they weakly clapped and mumbled to one another in their seats, eyes flashing with concern. They all knew Crowley’s ruthlessness when it came to his business deals or debates in class. It looked like no one was excited about his presence in the room, but clearly Crowley wasn’t catching on.

“Thank you,” he said with a saccharine grin. “I am honored to be funding this production. My mother is a great lover of the arts and my fiancé is clearly beloved among you.” He nodded in Cas’s direction at that, but he couldn’t even keep up a facade of happiness right then. He was too occupied with blanching in shock at Crowley.

“He’ll be watching our rehearsals from now on,” Sam provided. He grabbed his clipboard from the stage and pointed at Dean. “We’re gonna start out today with your scene with Bartholomew and Benny, so go wait backstage until your cue comes.”

Dean nodded at his brother and let his fingers pass over Cas’s arms before walking away. Cas turned on his heel to follow, but he caught Crowley’s eyeing him from the ground and scowled when he was beckoned.

“What?” Cas muttered as he went to stand in front of Crowley.

Crowley tsked under his breath and began walking towards the stage doors, out of hearing range. “Is that any way to talk to me, Castiel?” he asked as they traversed through the exit and out into the lobby. “I am saving your blasted production, after all.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why are you wasting time and money on this?” Cas asked. “You hate theatre.”

“Yes, but I like keeping track of my things,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Are you forgetting that you belong to me? Or has Winchester deluded you into thinking that you actually matter?”

Cas clenched his teeth at Crowley’s words. He curled his toes inside his boots and tried not to snap back with a reply that he’d be paying for later.

When he didn’t respond, Crowley just laughed harshly. “What? Cat got your tongue? Not so mighty without your knight in shining armor around, are you?”

Silence. Cas didn’t want to give Crowley the satisfaction of a response.

“Oh naive, weak Castiel,” Crowley cooed as he leaned into Cas personal space, lips brushing against Cas’s unmoving mouth. “You’re pathetic.”

He knocked Cas in the shoulder before traversing back into the theater. When the doors closed, Cas wobbled into the nearest wall, willing himself not to scream. Things were going too well; he was dumb for thinking it could’ve lasted.

With shaking hands, Cas pushed himself away from the wall and tried to calm down. He could get through this. It was only rehearsals, and Crowley didn’t know about what he and Dean got up to after they were finished for the night. Nothing had to change, really. At least that’s what Cas tried to tell himself to fight off the image of Crowley’s smug smile in his thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

Cas turned towards the theater door and let out a breath of relief when he found Dean there.

“No, not really,” Cas admitted as Dean pulled him further down the hallway.

“Me neither,” Dean muttered under his breath. “How did he find out about our budget problem?”

“I can’t even fathom how,” Cas exclaimed, eyes alight with panic. “What are we going to do, Dean?”

Dean pulled him into a hug and began cooing in his ear. “It’ll be okay, Cas. He doesn’t know about us, right? And he can’t possibly come to all our rehearsals if he’s going back and forth between Lawrence and London.”

Cas nodded into his collarbone and muttered, “It sucks ass.”

“Yeah, it really, really sucks ass,” Dean agreed under his breath, “but what can you do now? Sam’s got no idea about how Crowley really is, and his money is the only thing keeping us afloat and rockin’.” He turned Cas towards him and laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll just need to get real good at sneaking around,” he said with a wink.

Cas toed the floor. “That is easier said than done,” he replied. “Crowley is the king of diversions and untruths.”

“But he’s also an overconfident bastard who thinks you’re an obedient doe,” Dean countered back. “He doesn’t know what a badass you are.”

Cas snorted. “Please. I’m not a badass by any means.”

“Dude, you refused to go to a hospital after getting beaten up, you’re lying to your fiancé and having an affair. That’s pretty badass to me.”

“More like dumbass,” Cas muttered under his breath.

Dean knocked his arm against Cas’s. “Either way, you’re pretty amazin’, Cas.”

Cas grinned at the ground. “You think?”

“I know,” Dean replied. “Now c’mon. Let’s go back in there and rock this rehearsal. We’ll come up with some bullshit excuse about practicing after and I’ll take you out for a ride in Baby.”

Cas quirked an eyebrow up at Dean. “Will there be burgers?”

Dean snorted as he draped an arm around Cas’s shoulder blades. “Of course there’ll be burgers. Maybe even pie too, if we hit up the Roadhouse. I bet I can sweet talk Ellen into a slice of cherry.”

“Please. Ellen isn’t sweet talked by anyone.”

“But I’m her favorite customer,” Dean teased with a grin. “She’d do anything for me.”

“Last weekend she smacked you upside the head and said you were a pain in her rear end!” Cas exclaimed with a laugh as they broke apart.

“Hey, Ellen said that with love!” Dean shot back as he opened the door for Cas to walk through.

Cas laughed back, but it was truncated when he found Crowley glaring daggers at him from across the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, Cas,” Dean whispered quickly before passing him by, fingers lingering on his palm when no one was looking.

Cas just put on a fake smile as he fell into a chair at the back of the theater, feeling dejected and defeated. He cared a great deal about Dean and appreciated his optimism, but he just didn’t get it. How could he? He wasn’t around when Cas came home from school one day, expecting to find his father gone at the casino and money tacked to the fridge for takeout, only to find a surly British woman on a webcam waxing poetic about business deals and an arranged marriage instead. He couldn’t understand the discomfort Cas felt when he came face to face with Fergus Crowley for the first time when he was sixteen and looked into his eyes, reeling when he noticed they were as dull as the fading rose perched in his jacket pocket. He couldn’t understand the control Crowley had orchestrated over his life ever since their coupling, holding him back from entering college after high school to spend three lonely years in London instead, dragging Cas along to business meeting after business meeting, gripping his leg when Cas got snarky at the people who were trying to save his father’s business. He had no idea to what lengths Crowley went to keep Cas quiet, as Cas never revealed just how nasty Crowley could get when he was angry, or the threats he made against those Cas cared about.

He couldn’t know that when it came to his life, one thing was always certain. With Crowley around, nothing could ever be simply ‘okay.’


	23. Chapter 23

Before Dean knew it, spring had bloomed in a pop of color all over campus. The dirty remains of snow melted into the ground and ivy green grass took its place. The white, fluffy clouds above their heads turned into rumbling grey ones as flecks of snow were replaced with April showers, soaking Lawrence U with treacherous downfalls. Everything was changing around them, promising new starts and easier days as the semester rolled to a close.

At least, that’s what Dean hoped for, because if things didn’t lighten up soon, he was sure he’d be arrested for knocking Crowley over the head with one of their props.

Rehearsals had been a pain in the ass ever since he arrived back in January. Crowley was adamant about tweaking the tiniest of details, and with his money controlling the show there was little anyone could do to object. Dean watched as their perfectly good resale furniture they bought for set pieces were replaced with expensive, historical ones, Crowley citing ‘concerns about quality’ and ‘not being a cheap bugger’ as his reasons for the changes. The new pieces looked pompous and douchey, but of course Crowley only flipped his hand at him and wrote him off when Dean _kindly_ suggested that they go back to the old furniture.

(He also wasn’t a fan when Dean told him to go eat a cactus but hey, at least he expected that one.)

As the months wore on, Crowley began to find issues in their performances too. He couldn’t get through a rehearsal without commenting on Dean’s line delivery, or shooting off an asshole comment about his gestures, or even getting up on stage one time to poke him in the chest when he felt Dean wasn’t ‘emotional’ enough. It was enough that Dean had to hold back his fist a few times.

Cas was the beacon of light through those months. He was always there when Dean truly thought he’d punch Crowley in the face, a hand always coming up to calm him down when he got riled up. Even though Cas despised Crowley more than all of them combined, he was the one who was able to be rational and mature about it all. It was astounding, incredible even. Cas took Crowley’s abuse every day of his life and he was the one who was keeping his cool? To Dean, that was nothing less than amazing.

And on days when Crowley was really on a rampage of criticism, Cas would pull him aside, dashing through curtains until they reached their updated rendezvous, a tiny corner by the alley door with no light. When they were there, it was like time froze as they whispered affirmations to one another and giggled about theatre drama and kissed until Dean’s annoyance at Crowley faded into a low burning passion for the man in front of him. It was those tiny, beautiful moments that kept Dean going when all he wanted to do was run and hide.

“Winchester, don’t get too close to Castiel. You’re invading his personal space,” Crowley called out one April afternoon.

Dean blanched at the man and let his jaw go a little slack. “It’s a love scene, Crowley. I’m supposed to be close to him.”

“Yes, but I like it better when you’re a few feet away. Right now it looks like you’re about to star in a porno.”

Dean curled his fingers into his palm and pushed his lips down into a line. With his palms up in the air, Dean took a few steps backwards and nodded at Crowley. “You good?”

“Perfect,” Crowley said, popping his lips on the ‘p’. “Now let’s take it from the top.”

“You can’t direct us,” Dean snapped from the stage. “That’s Sam’s job.”

“Uh, it’s fine?” Sam said when all eyes turned towards him. “Let’s take it from the top.”

 _Jerk_ , Dean thought bitterly as he turned towards Cas again. He centered himself and tried to get back in character. They were going through a scene where Satine and Christian were overlooking the city from Satine’s apartment, wrapped up in each other as they whispered their first ‘I love you’s’. It was supposed to be intimate, but with Crowley pushing them apart, they’d barely been able to make it through three lines without being interrupted.

“Action!” Sam called from his perch in the front. He caught Crowley’s disinterested eye before turning towards Cas.

“Satine,” Dean said, trying to keep his distance like Crowley wanted. “I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

Cas laughed under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a creature of the underworld. I can’t afford to love.”

“And yet you love me,” Dean continued when Cas tried to evade his grasp. “Admit it, Satine. You care for me.”

“I do not!” he cried out, hand coming up to knock Dean’s away. “That would be...that is...that…”

“Is impossible?” Dean replied as he came up behind Cas. Ignoring Crowley’s direction, he curled his arms around Cas’s body and leaned into his ear. “Impure?”

“It’s madness,” Cas whispered back as his eyes slid close. “I can’t be in love.”

“But you are,” Dean shot back, and tried to keep himself in check when Cas leaned back against him.

A pause echoed through the room as they awaited Cas to say the final line of the scene. “Yes,” he said, “I’m in love with you.”

Quiet rang out before Sam yelled, “And end scene! That was great, guys!”

Applause rang out as the rest of the cast expressed their praise. Dean felt himself blush at the attention. It wasn’t that great; his delivery was a bit shaky and he could’ve held Cas closer, but it was the best run through they had all day. He felt himself preen with pride.

At least, for all of five seconds before Crowley chimed in.

“Really? You thought that was good? Castiel was decent, but Dean, that was abysmal,” Crowley mocked with a laugh. “Overworked and cheesy to boot. It’s no wonder Zachariah rejected you.”

Time lurched to a stop as the words his Dean’s ears. In an instant, he wasn’t standing on the Thompson Center stage anymore. No, he was thousands of miles away in New York, belting out the lyrics to ‘Bring Him Home’ as his voice cracked from fear. Crowley wasn’t laughing at him anymore; Zachariah took his place and didn’t even try to hide the snickers rising to his lips before Dean was even done singing his lines. He felt dizzy as memories he thought were long behind him came rushing back, knocking him to the ground when Crowley’s nasal laugh began to blend with the cold tone of Zachariah’s.

“Whoa, Dean!” Cas called from next to him, but Dean didn’t acknowledge him. All he could see was flashbacks of that day, the one that ruined his career, and all he could hear was the echo of Zachariah’s mocks in his ears.

“He needs water and air,” Sam instructed as he jumped up onto the stage.

“Does this happen often?” he thought he heard Cas ask as hands began to lift him from the ground and guide him through the curtains.

“Not recently, no,” Sam replied. “Now that I think of it, he hasn’t had a nightmare since you two became friends.”

Dean vaguely acknowledged that he was being seated on a fold out chair behind the stage, and he caught Jo’s concerned smile as she ran over with a water bottle in hand, but everything was still ringing and he felt sweat dewing on his neck. It was hard to concentrate when all he could do was feel the rejection run through him once again.

He was grateful when Sam shooed the cast away and told them to give him room. He watched as his friends reluctantly meandered back into the theater, tossing him pitying looks as they walked by. Dean hated it. He had been doing so well these past few months. Hell, ever since that night in the alley with Cas, he barely had thought about the encounter at all. Maybe it was because Cas’s problems seemed so much grander than his own, or maybe it was because even before they were together, Dean felt confidence when Cas was around. Either way, New York was like a fading memory, and he wished it good riddance when the deliberating nightmares calmed and fizzled away.

 _Yeah, good luck getting rid of your self doubt now,_ he thought to himself.

“Dean?” Sam asked when everyone had left the backstage area. “What happened out there?”

Dean rubbed the palm of his hand over his face and grunted. “Crowley, that’s what. Just...bringing up New York ain’t easy. You know that.”

Sam nodded and laid a hand on Dean’s elbow. He crouched down until he was eye level with Dean and said, “I can ask him to leave, if you want. Clear the air a bit.”

“Yeah, like he’d listen to you,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Just say it, Sammy. He runs this show now and we’re all his bitches.”

Sam frowned and leaned back on his heels. He picked at a loose strand on his jeans and kept his eyes downcast. He wouldn’t say it, Dean knew, but deep down Sam must’ve known he was right. Crowley had become a dictator these last few weeks. With his money controlling their chances of success, there was little Sam could say or do to control that slimy bastard.

“I’ll figure something else out,” Sam said after a bit of quiet between them. “I’ve put up with a lot these past few months, but that was too far.”

“You can’t do that,” Dean interjected. “What about our funds? We’re broke, Sam. Like it or not, we need that asshole and I’m a grown man. I’ll...get over it.”

Sam nodded sympathetically and shrugged before pushing up from the ground. “Are you sure? Because we could find other ways…” he said, but even Dean could sense the weakness of his words. They’d tried to go on their own, but no amount of money Dean, Jess, and Sam made could compare to what they had already spent on this production. They were stuck with Crowley, end of story.

Dean tried to twist his lips into a smile, but with the crash from the anxiety attack it probably looked more like an uneasy line. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I’m sure. See? Better already,” he said as he got up from his chair and took a swig from the water bottle in his hand. “Let’s just make it through this rehearsal in one piece.”

“Okay,” Sam muttered, but he didn’t seem convinced as Dean staggered towards the curtains, a bit uneasy from the dizziness that lingered. Sam caught his arm and steadied him as they emerged onto the stage, eyes flying to them the minute their feet echoed off the laminate.

“Uh, Dean’s okay!” Sam exclaimed. “And we’re going to run through that last scene one more time before we call it a night. Remember, the director is the only one who is supposed to be giving commentary,” Sam said pointedly as he glared at Crowley’s smug face in the audience.

Sam let go when Dean was able to stand straight and climbed down to the front row of chairs again. Cas traversed the rickety stairs to take Sam’s place by his side, and Dean let out a breath of relief when Cas’s fingers brushed his arm.

“What happened back there?” Cas whispered in his ear while they awaited Sam’s cue to begin.

“I’ll tell you later,” Dean replied, trying to push off the doubt that felt like molasses.

Cas nodded and gratefully didn’t comment any further. He just squeezed Dean’s wrist when Crowley wasn’t looking and fell into character when Sam told them to begin the scene again.

They got through the entire encounter without another comment from Crowley. That didn’t stop the man from throwing him disdainful glares though when he got in Cas’s personal space, or tsking under his breath when Dean delivered a line he didn’t agree with. But they made it through, and after they tweaked a few details of the scene, Jess and Sam called it a night and told everyone to be back early the next morning.

“Well, that was a wild ride,” Jo muttered when she walked up to Dean and Cas, still standing close from the scene.

“Tell me about it, sister,” Dean replied. He rocked back on his heels and cast a glance at Cas next to him. “Crowley’s quite the character.”

Jo nodded and pushed her hands into her pockets, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Well, if you want to blow off some steam, there’s a little party happenin’ at the Roadhouse,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “I just thought everyone could use a little time away from the drama. If you want to come, we’re all heading over right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Only cast is invited.”

Dean winced at Jo’s brashness, but Cas paid it no mind.

“I won’t tell Crowley, I promise,” Cas vowed, and that was enough to lighten Jo up a bit.

“Great,” she said with enthusiasm. She pulled her backpack higher up on her shoulder and nodded towards the doors. “Find a good excuse to tell the resident asshole over there and then come on over. We just got a shipment of Jack Daniels in and I can’t promise a night without strip poker.”

“Yeah, tell your girlfriend to watch out,” Dean called when Jo began meandering away. “She’s not as good as she thinks she is!”

“I’m counting on that!” Jo called back as she trudged over to Anna and laced their fingers together. For a brief, fleeting moment Dean wished he could show affection with Cas like that. He felt tips of his digits tingle, anxious to reach out for Cas’s hand next to him.

Luckily the spell was broken when Cas knocked into his shoulder and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “What are we going to tell Crowley?” he asked.

“Just tell him you’re gonna run lines with me.”

“He’ll never allow that, not when he’s gone,” Cas reminded him. “I’ll…I’ll tell him I have a meeting with Professor Mills. He never questions it.”

“Okay,” Dean replied. “Take the first bus out to the Roadhouse and I’ll meet you there.” When he looked around and found them alone in the theater, Dean did something a bit reckless. He leaned in and pulled Cas into a languid kiss, relishing the taste of Cas’s peppermint gum on his lips. “Hurry.”

“I will,” Cas said lowly, voice like rocks. With one last glance, Cas turned on his heel and left Dean alone on the stage.

He couldn’t help it; he grinned widely and whistled all the way back to his car, filled with an affection that roared through his veins and made his chest flutter.

 

* * *

 

 

The Roadhouse wasn’t far from Lawrence U, and when Dean pulled up most of the casts’ cars were already lined up outside the building. He parked Baby on the outskirts, not trusting Garth or his ‘87 Ford not to back into her newly buffed finish, and made his way through the front doors.

When Jo said this was a party, he thought she was exaggerating. She often called any get together over five people a party, but this was all out. Music blared from the speakers while bodies were already swaying on the dance floor. He caught Jess and Sam getting handsy in a corner, and he glanced away with a blush when he found his brother whispering into Jess’s ear. Benny and his girlfriend Andrea were swirling white wine by the bar, clearly in deep conversation, while Gabriel and Kali were already making out in one of the booths. When Dean looked around, he realized that everyone had paired up in one way or another. Hell, even Garth was getting some action with Bartholomew, the two dancing awkwardly to the wailing voice of Kevin Cronin.

“Dean! There you are!” Anna called excitedly when she popped up behind the bar. Her red hair was mussed and her cheeks were already flushed with exhaustion, but the first thing he noticed was the bottle of Kinky in her hand. He blushed at the pink liquid, recalling the night him and Cas laid themselves bare and exposed all the secrets between them.

“Hiya, Anna,” Dean said with an embarrassed smile, still lost in the memory of Cas’s eyes when he told Dean the truth about his life.

“What can I get ya?” she said a little slurred, eyes wandering around the room as she spoke.

“A beer is fine, thanks,” Dean replied.

She nodded quickly and ducked into a back room, stumbling along the way. Dean perched himself on a bar stool and twiddled his thumbs as he waited for Anna to reappear. He heard giggling from the kitchen, and Dean loudly sighed. When it came to Jo and Anna, giggling usually meant they were drunk, which led to messy PDA and lots of scarring for anyone within a ten foot radius. While no one could beat out Gabriel and Kali for most times caught _together_ , Anna and Jo came real, real close.

“Care if I join you?” Cas’s voice murmured in his ear as he came up behind Dean.

Dean smirked and gestured to the seat next to him. “Be my guest.”

Cas grinned as he took a seat and curled his fingers together in his lap. “What did I miss?”

Dean snorted inelegantly. “Besides Anna and Jo being grossly in love? Nothin’ yet. But I think Gabriel’s on the verge of breaking out into a musical number,” Dean noted when he looked over and found Gabriel chugging a shot of purple liquid.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, I’m sure,” Cas murmured as the music quieted down and faded into an Iron and Wine tune. His swooning vocals echoed throughout the Roadhouse, and Dean felt his gut clench when all the couples rushed to the floor, caught up in each other’s arms as they swayed to the easy notes of the music. It took a lot of willpower to ignore Cas’s rigid form next to him, clearly feeling as left out as he was.

“I wish we could join them,” Dean muttered under his breath, turning away from Cas when Anna reappeared with his beer. She slung it across the bar before turning towards the back room again, and he caught a flash of Jo’s black lacquered fingernails as she dragged Anna inside with a drunken laugh.

Cas went silent next to him before leaning in close. “Meet me out back in five minutes,” he said, then got up and left without another word.

Dean blanched at his back as he walked away. “Wait, what?” he called, but Cas wasn’t turning back. “Cas? Cas!”

 _Damn it_ , he thought as Cas pushed out the back doors and left the building. What was he thinking? If they both vanished from the bar, people would ask questions. Risking anyone finding out was a no go in Dean’s mind, not with Crowley prowling like a mountain lion at every corner, waiting to pounce on any whisper of conversation.

Sighing, Dean leaned his elbows on the bar and glanced around the room while he waited. He tried not to bring attention to himself as he popped open the top of his drink and began taking sips from it, lips pursed around the bottle’s edge as he watched everyone else bump and grind to the AC/DC song that had began blaring from the speakers. He’d never felt lonely at the Roadhouse before, but in that moment, Dean might as well have been on a deserted island.

He was grateful when the five minutes were up. Dean chugged the last drops of his drink before leaving it on the bar top, trying his best to slip out the back unseen. He was glad that everyone was too drunk or caught up in another person to notice his awkward trudging across the room, and he let out a sigh of relief when he carefully emerged into the Roadhouse’s alley and let the door close quietly behind him.

“Cas?” Dean whispered when he glanced around and found himself alone. “Cas? Where are you?”

He began walking towards the edge of the alley and out into the back parking lot. He didn’t see Cas anywhere, but when he listened close Dean heard music filtering through the quiet night. He followed the noise, walking through the parking lot and into a throng of bushes. He muttered profanities as he nicked his skin on prickly plants and knocked his toe against an outcropping of roots, and began to worry when the view of the Roadhouse faded into the distance.

He almost was on the verge of turning around when he burst through into a grassy clearing. Dean glanced around and took in the massive trees, reaching up into the clear, starry skies. An assortment of ivory and plum flowers littered the outskirts of the plain, and a rocky road leading out into regular traffic was hidden behind overgrown bushes. The music turned out the be the Iron and Wine song that was playing earlier, the soft notes coming from the stereo of Jess’s Volkswagen, Cas leaned up against the car with an amused smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked with a returning grin, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

Cas shrugged. “I don’t like being left out and Jess gave me an extra set of keys to her car.” He lifted his palm out into the air. “May I have this dance?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Dean didn’t need to be asked twice. He clutched Cas’s outstretched fingers in his palm and pulled him flush against his body, relishing in the closeness he longed for earlier. Cas’s breaths brushed against his hair and Dean shivered at the sensation. This was what he wished everyone could see. He wanted to be more than just Cas’s almost lover, he realized as they began swaying to the plucking guitar in ‘Flightless Bird, American Mouth’. He wanted to bring Cas to parties and kiss him in front of everyone. He wanted to be known as one half of ‘that gross PDA’ couple everyone loved to hate. He longed for Cas’s lips to peck against his as they said goodbye for the night at rehearsals, for Cas’s fingers to linger just a bit longer than necessary on his cheek while everyone was watching. He wanted to have Cas, all of Cas, outside of the corners of theater closets and the Impala.

Dean clenched his fingers tighter into the back of the black trench coat Cas was wearing. He couldn’t afford to think that way. June was approaching faster every day; he couldn’t hope for the impossible when so little time was left for them.

So instead of lingering on his aching desires, Dean just pulled Cas even closer and began turning them in circles around the clearing. The sounds of zooming cars from the highway and chatter from the Roadhouse parking lot accompanied their dance, and Dean let his eyes close as he lost himself in the scent of Cas’s shampoo and the feel of his hands grazing his back.

It was far too soon when the song faded out and the night went quiet around them. Cas stilled their bodies and leaned back to look Dean in the eyes. The fondness he found there was like a punch to the gut. How did he go so long without someone looking at him like that, and how much would it break him to lose it all?

“We should go back,” Dean said after a few beats of quiet between them. “People will start asking questions.”

Cas nodded but didn’t let go. “One more dance?” he asked, and how could Dean deny those baby blues?

“One more,” Dean said with a smile, pushing lightly away from Cas. He walked over to Jess’s bug and picked up the iPod he found there, flipping through the songs loaded onto it before he found one that was perfect. The vocals of Frank Sinatra’s ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ flooded the prairie as Dean lazily wandered back to Cas’s side and pulled him in close, guiding them in an easy circle once again.

They danced through the song, letting the chirping of cicadas and rustling of the leaves intertwine with Frank’s voice over the speakers. Neither of them talked, enjoying the peaceful quiet around them until the song faded out once again and a Michael Buble tune took it’s place.

“I don’t want to go back,” Cas whispered when Dean tried to pull away. “Let’s just...stay.”

“It’s like the real world doesn’t exist out here,” Dean replied in a low voice. “Like we’re in a dream or somethin’.”

Cas hummed back in response and nudged Dean’s cheek with his nose. “I like it.”

“Likewise,” Dean replied.

They fell quiet once again as they began swaying loosely back and forth. The songs began to fade into one another, and Dean forwent counting after the tune changed a few more times. In Cas’s arms, it was like time didn’t matter. He didn’t think about the party going on at the Roadhouse, or who would be wondering where they ran off to. For the first time in a long time, Dean felt completely at ease.

That is, until Cas said, “You never explained what happened earlier.”

Dean stopped dancing and turned his eyes away from Cas’s face. He glanced up at the clouds above their heads as he replied, “Guess I didn’t.”

Cas trailed the tips of his fingers down Dean’s arm. “You...you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” he whispered.

Dean bit his lip and closed his eyes. He didn’t want Cas to know about New York; it was one of the worst experiences of his life, but Cas had been so honest with him these past few months. He deserved to know the truth about why he constantly felt haunted.

“How much do you know about my audition?”

Cas’s finger stilled on Dean’s wrist. “Besides the rumors? Nothing, really,” he admitted. “I still feel bad about pulling that card when I was trying to push you away. I didn’t know just how much it affects you.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Dean whispered. “Only my closest friends know just how bad it messed me up.”

“Dean...what happened?”

Dean pulled away from Cas and led him over to a whitewashed log. He plopped down on it and Cas did the same, concerned eyes catching his gaze before he looked away in embarrassment.

“I was working for the Lawrence Theatre Company after graduation,” Dean began, fingers tapping nervously against his leg. “I was content where I was. The pay wasn’t great and I lived with three roommates, but we all got along and worked for the Company together. I was happy with the way things were, but my agent, Gordon, had bigger ideas for me.” He paused for a minute and bit his lip. This was when things went south. “After a year of working on local projects, he got me an audition in New York for _Les Mis._ And not just any part; he wanted me to audition for Jean Valjean. Thought I’d make it big first go like Beyonce or somethin’ like that, and I was high off of a good review from the Lawrence Daily News, so I thought I was invincible.

“Gordon convinced me that my place was in New York, so I sold everything I owned and drove cross country for three days. Moved into a tiny studio above a dive bar in Manhattan that I could barely afford and lived off of ramen for months until the audition. I was practically broke by the time they began casting for the show, so I was desperate for this to work out.”

“So what went wrong?” Cas asked quietly.

Dean snorted. “What went wrong? Everything went wrong, Cas,” he said. “I showed up to the audition thinking I was a shoe-in for the role, because that’s the crap Gordon had been feeding me ever since I left Lawrence. I didn’t even practice an audition song or anything. Thought I was too good for that.” He closed his eyes before finishing the story. “It was my pride that brought me down. I came to the audition thinking I was unbeatable and froze up when I had to look _the_ Zachariah Adler in the eye. It was like I forgot everything about the musical when I had actual Broadway producers in front of me. I got up there and blew it. My singing was off and my acting was barely acting at all. And when I was done, Zachariah _laughed_.” He cringed when he recalled just how much it stung when a man he used to admire cackled in his face. “Told me that I’d never make it on Broadway and that I was a failure as an actor. Then he kicked me out of the auditorium and told me never to show myself again.”

“That’s terrible,” Cas murmured. He reached over and took Dean’s hand between his fingers.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Dean replied. “After I left, I was completely broken. Nightmares of the audition haunted me, and I’d wake up in a cold sweat more often than not. I tried to get work on smaller projects to forget about it, but nobody wanted to work with me. I guess when Zachariah rejects you, news travels fast. It was like I was blacklisted or somethin’ like that. Gordon left after it was obvious I wasn’t goin’ anywhere, but I stayed in New York for three months after the audition anyway. But when I realized I wasn’t gonna make rent, I packed up what little I had and came back to live with Sammy. Moped around the apartment for a month before he entered the theatre competition and I became Christian.”

Cas leaned in and rested his head against Dean’s. “I’m sorry that you went through that. Nobody deserves to be treated that way.”

Dean curled his arm around Cas’s waist and pulled him close. “Yeah, it sucked big time, but there’s one good thing that came from it.”

Cas glanced up at him. “What?”

He pecked a kiss on Cas’s lips. “If I got that role, I never would’ve met you.”

Cas grinned and blushed as Dean got up from the log. He reached out a hand and pulled Cas up too, holding his arms to steady them both.

“We should get back, for real this time,” Dean said.

“We should,” Cas replied with a feral grin, “but we could just stay here instead. Jess won’t be looking for her car yet, and I think I want another dance.”

Dean laughed and twined their fingers together. “I’m not gonna argue with you on that.”

And so they fell back into an easy sway, going back and forth, back and forth. The music changed to something a bit more upbeat after a few songs, but they didn’t mind. Dean just kept brushing his lips sensually over Cas’s collarbone while Cas brushed his nose over Dean’s hair. It was intimate without being sexual, something Dean wished they did more of. While it was great to bump and grind with Cas in a closet, this is what he loved the most.

“Anna, you’re going too fast!” Jo’s voice called out through the trees.

“Shit, is that Anna and Jo?” Dean hissed under his breath.

“I think so,” Cas said. He pushed Dean away and ran for the car, turning off the ignition before jumping into the cover of bushes.

Dean turned to run towards the road, but he barely got three steps before Anna and Jo came crashing through the trail, laughing as they tumbled together into the prairie. They were so preoccupied with themselves that Dean tried to tiptoe away, but he froze when Jo’s eyes flashed up to him and she gasped.

“What the hell are you doing here? And why do you have Jess’s car?” Jo asked with downturned lips. Anna swayed uneasily next to her, eyes clouded from still being drunk, he’d assume.

“Uh,” Dean called out, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “I...I was playin’ a prank on Jess!” he exclaimed. “Imagine how freaked out she’s gonna be when she can’t find her car, right?”

“Prank? Isn’t that a bit...I don’t know...low for you? I’d expect it from Gabriel, but you?” Jo asked with a laugh. “What did she ever do to you?”

“Uh…” Dean tried to come up with an excuse, but it was like cotton was in his mouth. Words weren’t coming together, and he just shrugged when he didn’t give a response.

Jo raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t question any further. “Well, get it out of here. Jess doesn’t deserve it and we’re kinda...busy?” Jo emphasized with wide eyes.

“Busy?” Dean said with a smirk.

“She means we’re gonna make out, so unless you want a front row seat to it get lost,” Anna called out with her hands on her hips.

“Damn, you’re nasty when you’re drunk,” Dean muttered under his breath, and the two girls broke out into laughter.

“But really, Dean. Get lost,” Jo said with a wink. “We love ya, but we need our privacy.”

Dean tossed up his hands and backed into the Volkswagen’s door. “Don’t need to tell me twice,” he said as he climbed inside, hoping Cas would get the memo and would follow him to the road. He adjusted the rearview mirror and turned on the ignition, but glanced over at Anna and Jo one more time before he drove away. He found them completely lost in each other, his presence already long forgotten. The way Anna looked at Jo was like she was looking at a piece of art, one of those rare and beautiful pieces they only kept at prestigious galleries. The love she felt for Jo was clear on her face; anyone with a bit of sense could see that. He felt his chest clench when he recalled looking at Cas like that before, and without even thinking first, Dean rolled down the window and called out, “Hey, come here for a sec, will ya?”

The girls jumped at his question, clearly unaware that he was even still around. They walked over to the car as he asked and Jo leaned against the hood, clearly annoyed that he was interrupting their alone time.

“What?” Jo snapped in exasperation.

Dean blushed and glanced at his knees. “When...when did you two know you were in love?”

Anna perked up at his question and Jo raised her eyebrows. “Why you askin’?” Jo replied.

“Just curious,” Dean lied cooly, hoping he could hide his own questions in his nonchalant expression.

Jo’s face softened as she grinned over at Anna. “I knew the first time we kissed,” she said with bright eyes. “I suspected it before, but once we crossed that line on New Year’s Eve I was a goner.”

Anna blushed furiously and shoved her hands in her pockets. “I knew a little bit before that,” she said. “Jo and I were watching the lunar eclipse for Professor Devereaux's astrology class and I just remember thinking that she was prettier than anything in that sky.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush, babe,” Jo muttered under her breath, and Anna leaned over to leave a kiss on her cheek.

“Basically, when you feel like you can’t live without the other person? That’s when you know,” Jo chimed in. “Why you ask? Is there someone we don’t know about?”

Dean put the car in drive and let out a nervous laugh. “What? No. Me? In love? Never,” he babbled in truncated bursts. He began rolling up the window as he caught sight of Cas’s head popping out of the foliage. “I better get goin’. Thanks for the talk, uh, congrats on the sex, and, uh, bye!”

Jo and Anna looked incredibly confused as they walked back into the circle, but Dean peeled out of the clearing and onto the road before he could feel bad about leaving them in the dark. He pulled off into a rocky road that led into another building’s parking lot and shoved the car into park, trying to calm his racing pulse. _What the hell was that? Congrats on the sex? Great work._

He practically jumped out of the car when the door opened next to him, but calmed himself when he found Cas buckling himself into the passenger’s side.

“That was close,” Cas muttered under his breath.

“What were the chances they’d even know about that clearing? I didn’t and I practically spent every night of college here.”

“Regardless, we almost got caught tonight. What would’ve happened if Jo and Anna found us together?”

“Knowing Jo, that news would’ve been front and center,” he said with a snort. He loved Jo like a sister, but she was the worst with keeping secrets. Anna wasn’t much better.

“We need to be more careful.”

“You’re right. We’ll need to be discreet,” Dean agreed.

“I wish it didn’t have to be that way,” Cas said, lips pushed into a frown.

Dean let out a sigh and drove back towards the main road. “Me too, Cas. Me too.”


	24. Chapter 24

“Moose!”

Sam cringed as the nickname he despised hit his ears. He thought everyone had already left for the day, eager to begin their weekend after a rough rehearsal. Crowley had been even more despicable than usual, and hearing his voice only brought an angry flush to his cheeks.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Sam grunted as he hoisted his overstuffed backpack up on his arm.

Crowley meandered in front of him with his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at his feet before looking up at Sam from under his eyelashes, mouth curled into a distasteful, unsettling smirk.

“Is that any way to treat your benefactor, Sam?” Crowley asked. He peered into the crevice of the curtains and let out a snort. “And you’re not doing a good job at hiding, Jessica!”

“Damn,” he heard Jess mutter as she slid out from backstage, arms crossed over her chest.

“Come here, darling. You could give insight to my predicament, too.”

Jess glanced back, clearly trying to plan out an escape before she realized there was none. She came up to Sam’s side and he pulled her into his arms, hoping he could give her a little bit of protection from Crowley’s feral gaze.

“What’s the problem?” Jess asked.

Crowley curled his lip up into a scowl and began tapping his foot against the wood floors. “I’ve come to notice that Castiel has begun sporting a rather blingy necklace. He claims it is for the production, but that did not get approved by me. Do either of you know about this?”

 _Shit._ Of course Sam had noticed the new addition to Cas’s wardrobe. It was a rather flashy piece after all, and he recognized the jewelry as one of Grandma Campbell’s pieces that she used to wear at holiday parties. Dean could’ve been the only one who knew where it was, but Sam didn’t want to think about the ramifications of why he gave it to Cas. That would mean he’d have to accept the obvious, and he wasn’t ready to deal with his brother possibly getting into an affair with an engaged man, or why he didn’t trust Sam with the secret.

“I approved it,” Sam lied through his teeth, hoping it would be enough to throw Crowley off of the truth. “Dean found it when we were, uh, cleaning and thought it would be a good addition to the play.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. “Dean found it?”

 _Backtrack, backtrack!_ “Uh, ah…”

“Actually, I was the one who found it,” Jess chimed in when it became clear Sam had no good response. She leaned back into his chest and nudged his gut with her elbow. “We bought it when we went to that thrift store in Kansas City, remember?”

He could kiss her for being such a smooth liar. “Uh, yeah!” Sam said with more gusto that could ever be believable. It was painfully obvious why he was always behind the scenes and he felt Jess tense beneath him. “I totally forgot.”

“And how did our Castiel end up with it?”

“The diamond pin you ordered for his costume ended up being out of stock, so I thought this would be a good replacement,” Jess responded. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why do you care so much, Crowley?”

Crowley glared at her and sneered. “None of your business, Jessica. But if you need to get involved, he has been wearing it nonstop since I got back from London. Is it wrong that I’m curious where it came from?”

Jess clearly wanted to bite back, but Sam gripped his fingers into her arm. He didn’t need these two going at it. “Not at all,” Sam responded immediately. “It’s nothing to worry about, I assure you.”

Crowley pointed his nose up in the air and sniffed. “It better not be. You know how I feel about things not going my way.”

“Do I ever,” Sam muttered under his breath, but glanced away with embarrassment when Crowley eyed him with disdain.

“Call a rehearsal for tomorrow morning,” Crowley said as he picked up his briefcase from the ground. “We need to work out those lighting issues before dress rehearsals next week.”

“Will do!” Sam called jovially as Crowley began walking away, and only let out a sigh of relief when he walked out of the theater.

“What the hell was that about?” Jess asked when Crowley had left.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied.

Jess pushed out of his grasp and turned towards him. “I think you do,” she said as she pushed her index finger into Sam’s chest. “C’mon, Dean tells you everything. Where did Cas _really_ get that necklace?”

Sam clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. “I think Dean and Cas are sleeping together,” he blurted out, the words running into each other.

He heard Jess’s intake of breath and he looked up at her from under his eyelashes. The look on her face was torn between amusement and disbelief. “You think your brother is banging my best friend? My _engaged_ best friend?” Jess asked. When Sam nodded in response, she only laughed. “That’s not possible!”

Sam blanched at her. “Jess, really? You’re in rehearsals every day. You see the way they look at each other. Friends don’t just devour each other with their eyes,” he noted.

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Please. I’ve known Cas since we were freshman and the most reckless thing he’s done is get too drunk at the wrap party. He doesn’t have it in him to cheat on Crowley.”

He wished he could believe her; it would be easier for everyone if he did, but he knew Dean. Ever since that cast party at Jess’s, Dean had been _glowing_. He was whistling around the apartment, singing in the shower, and when he thought Sam wasn’t looking he found Dean constantly grinning down at his phone as his fingers flew over the keys. And if that wasn’t enough, he hadn’t been woken up from Dean’s nightmares in months. Everything suggested that his brother was getting laid, and on a regular basis, too. Sam’d never seen him like that otherwise.

Jess left a quick kiss on his cheek and curled their fingers together. “Let’s go for a drink. It’ll help you unwind, relax a bit. I think you’re too stressed out.” She quieted for a second before saying, “I know Cas, and even though I don’t get it, he loves Crowley. They’re going to last, I know it.”

Sam just sighed as she led them through the corridors. For everyone’s sake, he sure hoped Jess was correct.


	25. Chapter 25

“Where the hell are we?” Cas asked as they pulled up to a rundown shanty on the side of the road.

Dean grinned widely when he put the Impala into park and gestured to the building in front of them. “We’re at the best bar in town, Cas. Old charm, good booze, and absolutely no one from Lawrence U to see us,” he said as he waggled his eyebrows, and Cas just rolled his eyes as he pushed out of the car.

“I don’t see why we can’t go to the Roadhouse instead,” Cas muttered under his breath, clearly put off by the building’s rundown exterior.

He wasn’t completely off center. The first time Dean went to The Dragon Room was with the theater troupe he joined after college. Ash, their tech technician, swore that it was the best place in Kansas, and he wasn’t wrong. While the building itself hadn’t been updated since its original opening in the 1940s, and the inside reeked of cheesy gimmicks, the food was perfection and they always had some old TV show playing behind the bar. (Plus, it didn’t hurt that he was dating Ash at the time and would go anywhere he asked if it meant getting laid later.)

Cas looked as enthused as he was the first time around, so Dean walked over and slung an arm around Cas’s waist, pulling him close. “C’mon, it’s not that bad, plus it doesn’t hurt to change it up a bit when Crowley’s out of town. Don’t you trust me?”

Cas’s lips turned up at the corners and he toed the ground with his boot. “I guess I do,” he said with a wink, and let Dean lead him through the side door and into the bar lounge.

As he imagined, the inside hadn’t changed since he went there last. Red, vinyl chairs were placed around the room by laminate wood tables, and the bar itself was decorated with Christmas lights and dangling palm trees. The tiki roof above them was leaking in a few places, like always, and a ruby glow illuminated the room from Chinese lanterns dispersed on restaurant tables.

“This is incredibly cheesy,” Cas commented as they fought through the crowd and took seats at the bar.

Dean shrugged and pulled his chair closer to Cas. “Yeah, but they’ve got the best egg rolls in Kansas, and I’ve got a thing for bartenders who play Star Trek reruns,” he said louder when a certain redhead came into view.

“You wish you could get with this, Winchester,” Charlie, bartender and Dean’s close confidant, said as she waded up to the bar. She winked at them and wiped a stray, fiery lock of hair from her forehead. “It’s been too long, Dean.”

He nodded back at her with downturned eyes and laid his elbows on the bar’s plump, glittery vermillion bumper. “Sorry ‘bout that, Char. With this new production we’re in and pulling hours at Rufus’s, I barely get out of Lawrence anymore. Besides, it kinda reminds me of my post New York days, you know.”

Charlie’s demeanor changed into a careful one and her eyes softened. If anyone knew about what he went through after that audition with Zachariah, it was her. Oftentimes he’d end up in that exact position, looking for solstice in alcohol and Star Trek reruns instead of dealing with the rejection, all while bouncing fan theories off of Charlie to distract himself. It was part of the reason he loved coming to The Dragon Room; he always knew that there would be someone there for you, whether it be Charlie, or Lisa, or even Linda, the owner who would sometimes tend when she wanted to get away from her son and his long tirades about American government. For a while, it was his second home, and the people became his second family. He felt guilt bubble up when he realized it had really been ages since he’d come by.

“No worries, really,” Charlie said when she noticed him getting lost in himself. “But don’t let it go that long again, okay? Mildred’s been asking for you, you know,” she said with a wink, and Dean felt himself blush when he remembered the older woman who frequented the bar.

“Who’s Mildred?” Cas said while he narrowed his eyes in Dean’s direction.

Charlie began giggling and grabbed onto the bar edge, hair falling in her face. “Only Dean’s biggest fan,” she said with a wide smile. “She comes in and always sits next to Dean, and then puts her hand on his leg for hours on end. It’s hilarious.”

“It isn’t!” Dean countered back as he pointed a finger at Charlie. “It’s borderline harassment, is what it is.”

Charlie rolled her eyes as she leaned down below the bar. When she came back up, two whiskey tumblers were in one hand and a bottle of Jameson was in the other. “Lighten up, Dean. Mildred’s a sweet lady and she’s never gone above the knee.”

“Yeah, yet,” Dean muttered under his breath as Charlie filled up their tumblers.

Cas turned towards him with an amused smile on his face. “I didn’t know that I had competition,” he teased.

Charlie perked up at that. “Competition? Are...what…,” she babbled, eyes flying back and forth between Cas and Dean before she finally slammed the whiskey bottle down and crossed her arms over her chest. “Dean Winchester, is this your boyfriend?”

 _Boyfriend_. The word flittered in the air between them and Dean felt butterflies dance in his chest. They’ve never used that word before, always leaving their relationship undefined due to their unique affair. Besides, they knew what they meant to one another. Labels were not things they were worried about, but when Charlie said the word, Dean felt himself flushing red as he caught Cas’s eye next to him.

He didn’t get to answer before Cas grabbed his hand and curled their fingers together. “Yes, I’m Dean’s boyfriend.”

Charlie whistled and gestured wildly to a woman who was walking up to the bar. She was new, Dean noted, and incredibly gorgeous. Flowing chestnut hair was pulled up into a bun, revealing her long neck and round cheeks. Her lips were a perfect bow shape and her arms were incredibly toned under her plaid flannel. If she was around when Dean was spending most of his time here, he probably would’ve tried to get her number.

“Hi, babe!” the woman called out as she walked around the bar and kissed Charlie’s cheek, and Dean felt himself blink a little in surprise before he pulled his lips up into a smile.

“Dean, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Gilda,” Charlie said with a light blush coloring her cheeks. “Gilda, this is Dean and…” she trailed off.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Dean blurted out. “This is, uh, Cas. My boyfriend.”

Gilda grinned warmly at them before she draped an arm around Charlie’s waist. “Nice to meet you guys,” she said. “Charlie’s talked a lot about you, Dean. Says you’re the best LARPer around.”

He glanced down at the counter before freezing. Uh-oh.

“You LARP?” Cas asked.

“No,” Dean interjected a bit too quickly, and when he peered up Cas was smiling like he’d just won the lottery.

“It’s not as dorky as it sounds!” Dean exclaimed when Cas began full out laughing. “It takes brains to do it right and I don’t put on a fake accent and I don’t-”

“Dean, I’m not laughing at you! It’s just that I used to LARP back in high school before...you know.”

Dean blinked and gaped at Cas. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I used to be friends with a few LARPers and I fell in love with it. It was one place where I could just be myself, ironic as that is.”

Dean nodded. “I get that. I felt exactly the same way. No one can judge when we’re all playing someone else.”

Cas brought his whiskey to his lips and took a sip of it. “Exactly. But please, I need to know more about this LARPing group you’re apparently in.”

Dean grinned into his drink. “Well, it all began when Charlie called me up and needed a partner…”

The rest of the night was spent like that. Dean told the story of how he met Charlie at this very bar and began LARPing with her while Cas talked about his debate team and the first time he performed on a stage in the first grade. Charlie butted in too with her own array of embarrassing Dean stories, and by the time closing came around they were bubbly from alcohol and laughter as thunder clashed outside.

“Uh-oh. Better get going if you’re gonna beat the rain,” Charlie said as she closed out their tab and grabbed their empty glasses.

Dean tossed a fifty dollar bill on the bar and wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist. “Thanks for the good time, Char.”

She quirked her lips up at them. “Anytime. Now go before you get poured on. I’m not letting you back in here after we lock those doors.”

They waved goodbye as they walked out of the bar together. Rain was already pouring when they exited the building, so Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and began running through the parking lot, giggling as they got soaked through with water. Finding refuge in the Impala, they crawled inside and laughed when they found each other dripping wet.

“You look like a mess,” Cas said as he brushed his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Me? What about you? You look like you just walked out of a lake or something like that.”

Cas laughed back at him and crossed the space between them to leave a kiss on Dean’s lips. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I like it.”

Dean grinned back as he captured Cas’s lips again, this time with more passion. He dipped his head into Cas’s space and grabbed Cas’s bottom lip between his teeth. The moan that came from Cas was downright sinful, and it only encouraged Dean to push further. He caressed Cas’s cheeks and moved his hand down, fingers trailing over Cas’s collarbones. He edged his teeth from Cas’s lips to his neck and sucked a mark, hard enough that Cas yelped beneath him.

“I’m sorry,” Dean muttered as he kissed the teeth marks, but Cas just grabbed tightly onto his leg.

“Don’t be. I liked it,” he moaned back as he crawled into Dean’s lap.

It was Dean’s turn to let out an embarrassing noise when Cas’s hips grinded down into his lap, awakening the bulge that was ever growing in his pants. It took everything in Dean not to push Cas against the Impala’s seats and have him right there, but he resisted. If they were going to do this, really do this, then he wanted it to be perfect.

“What are you doing?” Cas whined when Dean backed away.

Dean threw a feral gaze at Cas. “We’re goin’ to my place...if you want to.”

Cas’s answering growl was enough to get Dean’s cheeks flushing. “Drive, Winchester.”

He let the engine rumble to life below him and peeled out of the parking lot, driving faster than was probably safe in this weather. The thunder rolled above them and lightning flashed in the distance as Dean sped down the country roads and back into the city, desperately trying to ignore Cas’s fingers drawing designs on his leg. It felt like years had passed when he pulled up in front of the apartment and ran out into the pouring rain, Cas chasing him as they grabbed hands and crashed through the door.

“Cas-”

“No talking,” Cas muttered, pushing Dean up against the wall while they waited for the elevator to come down. He leaned into Dean and thrust a knee between his legs. Dean yelped.

“Whoa Cas, can’t we wait until we’re not in public?” Dean laughed under his breath at Cas’s urgency.

Cas’s eyes narrowed as he let his fingers trail under Dean’s wet t-shirt. “No,” he said, then grabbed hold of Dean’s hips with his hands, hard enough to probably leave bruises. He tried not to show how much he was loving it, but it wasn’t possible _not_ to groan when Cas went to work, rubbing circles into Dean’s skin as he pushed their bodies together.

The elevator came and Dean pushed Cas into it. Their lips collided as they clumsily kissed, lips wet from the rain and saliva. When they landed on Dean’s floor they fell out of the elevator, chasing one another down the hallway. Dean quickly pulled out his keys and pushed them into the lock, thanking his lucky stars that the usually stubborn door actually opened on the first try.

When the door clicked behind them and they were alone, Cas didn’t hold back. Dean almost fell backwards when Cas knocked him into the edge of the couch, fingers already fumbling with his belt as his lips raked against his neck, and Dean was eating it up, kissing Cas right back and trying to unbutton his shirt with his rain slicked fingers. Everything felt right, like this is what they’ve been waiting for, until Cas opened his mouth and broke the fire between them.

“Do you want to be...fondled?” he said in low murmur.

Dean couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing and fell back against the couch, tears appearing in his eyes. Cas just quoted freaking Casa Erotica, of all things. What was going on?

Cas just stared at him. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Dude, are you quoting a porno to me?” he got out through the giggles, hand coming up to wipe away the wetness from his cheeks.

“Yes. Why? I thought that was...sexy?” he said like a question, which only got Dean cackling even harder.

“Cas, pornos are _not_ sexy. Especially not Casa Erotica. That’s the kind of crap I’d expect from Gabriel,” Dean said with a smile on his face.

Embarrassed, Cas blushed. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “I was just trying to learn. I’ve...never done this before.”

Dean felt himself openly gape at Cas. What was he talking about? The way he kissed Dean was nothing short of perfection. He knew exactly where to push and pull to get Dean turned on. How could Cas be a _virgin?_

“No way. You’ve never…?”

“Not exactly,” Cas whispered. “Crowley and I never slept together, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Dean nodded. “I see,” he said, lips pursed as he thought it over. “Then can I ask you something, Cas?”

“Yes,” he responded.

Dean grinned. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

Cas grinned back. “I’m a virgin, not a monk. I did have a bit of a dating life before Crowley came along and I’m a fast learner.”

“Yeah you are,” Dean moaned into the air when Cas captured his lips in a kiss again.

As they made their way to Dean’s bedroom, there was a lot less fire than before. Now it was all low, burning passion as Dean let Cas trail his lips up and down his neck as they tumbled through the hallway, taking their time with one another. When they fell into Dean’s bedroom, Cas pushed Dean back onto the bed and made work of his t-shirt while Dean reached over and popped the last buttons on Cas’s when he was done. He let his eyes roam over Cas’s bare chest when the shirt came off, gaze dipping between Cas’s toned stomach to his pushed out hipbones that Dean couldn’t wait to get his mouth on.

But in comparison, Dean felt inadequate. He wasn’t ripped like Cas was; if he was being honest, he’d let himself go a bit after the Broadway disaster a few months back. His gut was a little pudgy, and he didn’t have abs like Cas did. Even his arms weren’t as big as they used to be, and as Cas’s eyes flew over his body, a flush of self-consciousness rose through him.

“I know I’m not much but…” he trailed off when Cas brought a finger to his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” Cas whispered lowly as a flash of lightning popped outside the window.

They worked slowly, taking their time. Dean pulled Cas into his chest and began kissing him lazily, lips colliding in time with the peals of thunder booming around them. The sound of rain hitting the glass was their soundtrack as they began to explore each other, hands wandering over the lines and crevices of each other’s bodies as their hips began to knock against one another. Eventually things began to gain speed between them when Cas’s fingers began to dip below Dean’s waistline, teasing the edge of his boxers. He was about to get rid of them completely when Dean brought a hand up to stop him.

“Cas,” he said, eyes flashing up to meet Cas’s gaze.

Cas glanced back at him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Yes?”

Dean anxiously played with the edge of the bedsheet. “Are...are you ready for this? I don’t wanna push you into anything you’re not okay with.”

A bit of quiet floated around them before Cas broke it by replying, “Yes. I’m ready. Are you?”

Dean blushed. “Yeah, I...I want you, Cas.”

They fell into one another after that. Cas continued his earlier trail and dipped his fingers below Dean’s waistband. He pulled off Dean’s jeans and boxers, arcing them across the room, then went and rid himself of his own. With only the outside lights as their guide, Cas carefully lowered himself down onto Dean’s lap and tentatively let his fingers brush over their bare bodies, eyes glancing anxiously at Dean. It was clear Cas was uneasy, so Dean took Cas’s hand and guided him through the motions, eyes boring into each other the entire time.

It was awkward at first. Their thrusts were ill-timed and neither of them could move much without breaking into laughter, but after a few tries they found their rhythm. As the thunderstorm picked up speed outside, they did too. The crashes of thunder roared as the wind began to blow, branches rattling against the building. Sweat began to dew as they worked themselves fast, fast, faster, their echoing moans mixing with the ticking of the clock on Dean’s wall and nature’s symphony of clashes and booms. They gasped each other’s names as lightning lit up the room in a brilliant, white glow, casting each other in ravenous light. And when the loudest peal of thunder clapped, they found themselves arching over the edge in ecstasy before falling to the bed again, filled with a buzzing bliss.

Dean grasped the edge of his headboard to get his bearings again when they were done. “Whoa,” was all he could say.

“Whoa indeed,” Cas muttered into his chest, eyes already closing in the post-coital haze around them.

They laid there for a bit, not talking. Dean listened to the retreating thunder and relaxed into the bed when the lightning bloomed outside. With Cas laying on his chest everything felt perfect, and when Dean looked down Cas was asleep, mouth open as low snores escaped his lips.

Dean couldn’t help it. He leaned down and laid a kiss against Cas’s hair and brushed the loose ones out of his face.

“ _And all I can do is surrender to the moment, just surrender,”_ Dean crooned under his breath as he caressed Cas’s hair.

He threw Cas one last grin before he too closed his eyes and let the quiet lull him asleep, the feeling of Cas on top of him comforting as he drifted off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t want to marry him.”

Cas’s voice jolted Dean from sleep. He cracked his eyes open and was hit with the brightness of light filtering in through the window, dust floating around and causing him to blink fiercely. When he was able to see normally again, Dean found Cas curled up in the comforter next to him, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns into the fabric. The break of dawn light was cascading on Cas’s body, bare skin reflecting like a pearl taken out of the ocean. Dean was wonderstruck by how _beautiful_ he looked there, angelic even. But Cas’s mouth was pushed down into a line and his eyes were troubled.

“Don’t,” Dean whispered, voice cracking from early morning grogginess. He reached between them and took Cas’s fingers in his hand, bringing his thumb up to rub circles into his calloused knuckles. “Leave with me, Cas. We can run away together, change our identities. I think you’d look good blonde,” Dean tried to joke, but it fell flat between them.

“They would find us,” Cas replied in a monotone voice, gaze distant and far off. He pulled his fingers away from Dean’s grip and curled tighter into the comforters. “Rowena’s connections are incredibly vast and Crowley himself is a determined man. If we run, they’ll catch us. I’ll be forced into this marriage and you’ll be dead. I can’t put you through that, Dean. I won’t put you in danger. I need to marry Crowley for everyone’s sake, even if it will rip me apart to do so.”

Of course Dean already knew this. They both knew the impossibility of it. Instead of going around the topic again, he brought his lips up to Cas’s neck and laid a tender kiss beneath his ear, desperate for a distraction from the fate they were both dealt. He let fingers trail over Cas’s bare chest, let lips linger on his lover’s neck, collarbone, cheek. He felt the twirling of anticipation in his belly when Cas’s breaths got more frequent with his touches, and when he climbed on top of Cas and bent down to kiss him full mouth, all worries were gone, at least for then.

“We need to talk about-ah!” Cas gasped when Dean bit down on his collarbone.

“Not now,” Dean got out between kisses. “I need you right now, Cas. I need you.”

He felt Cas nod above him in understanding, then lifted his head and surged forward to capture Cas’s lips. It didn’t take long for their kisses to become desperate, reflecting the fear Cas was emoting earlier. Dean felt like a live wire as they began moving together, hands looking for purchase as the heat between them began to rise. They both knew that this could be their last time together; opening night was a few weeks away and there was no way Crowley would let Cas out of his sight until they both said “I do”. With the cards on the table, it was exceptionally real that they needed to get every last minute together, explore every crevice of the other’s body, experience love one last time before they were both thrust into worlds apart.

They let desperation take them as they melded themselves to one another, hands, lips, teeth begging to find purchase. The light from outside was getting intense as the sun rose above the horizon, and Dean quickly realized that this could be it for their rendezvous. Cas would be leaving soon, and then what? Would they kiss off of a stage again? Would he ever feel Cas’s toned body beneath his hands, listen to his breathy moans as Dean worked him, touched him, loved him in every way he knew how? Would he get to hear Cas rant about the bee population again, or listen to his laughs as they spent nights with Jo and Anna at the Roadhouse, playing pool and getting drunk? Would he drive Cas home again when Crowley was gone, wishing that he would just stay with Dean instead?

Would he ever get to tell Cas that he loves him?

“Dean…” Cas moaned loudly, and in that moment it became clear that Dean wasn’t about to let this go that easily.

“Cas, we need to talk,” Dean forced out through his teeth, because Cas was nipping at his hipbones and it took everything in Dean to not have him right there.

“Now?” Cas groaned out as he pushed himself up onto the palms of his hands and eyed Dean annoyingly. “Because I was about to get to the good part.”

Dean turned away with downcast eyes and Cas sobered up immediately. “Dean, talk. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t let you go through with this, Cas,” he began slowly, fingers coming up to brush over Cas’s cheek. “I can’t let you marry Crowley.”

Cas closed his eyes and he leaned forward into Dean’s palm on his face. “I need to. If I don’t-”

“Yeah, I’ll be in danger and Rowena will find me, blah blah blah. I’ve heard it all before,” Dean muttered as he pulled his hand back. “But you never bothered to ask what I feel, you know?”

Cas fixed his eyes open and squinted at him, lips pushed down into a line. “This is not your decision to make, Dean.”

“Oh, no? Did you ever consider the fact that Rowena could come after me anyway? Don’t you remember when you said that I was a part of this now? Well guess what, Cas? If I’m really a part of this, then I want a say in what we’re gonna do. You say there’s no way out, but I think there is.”

Cas went quiet and pushed away from Dean. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxers before pacing the tiny room. “What way? I see no option that doesn’t end without a bullet in you.”

Dean leaned against the headboard and gestured for Cas to join him. Cas sighed and complied. He crawled back into bed and curled up next to Dean’s side, then brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Just listen, okay?” Dean said as he turned Cas towards him. “We can run, I’m sure of it. We can get an inconspicuous car and drive. I’ve got connections all over the country, friends who’d let us crash with them until we got off the grid. A little hair color change, new names, fake IDs, and we’d be golden.”

Cas was shaking his head before Dean finished and looked on at him with a frown. “If Coven Foods goes down because I leave, she will track me down. There’s nothing that can keep Rowena from what she wants,” Cas said bitterly, fingers curling into the comforter fabric again. “It’s me that they need, but they would go through you first. Unless we can get completely off the grid and our identities erased entirely, they would find us.”

Dean sighed and laid a hand on Cas’s shoulder. Total erasure was impossible, this he knew. The internet was a vast place. Nobody could get rid of their footprint completely, not unless they were some kind of master hacker, or something like that.

 _Of course_ , Dean thought once a face popped into his mind. _How could I be so dumb?_

“I know how we can erase our identities,” Dean exclaimed as he popped out of bed and grabbed his laptop from the nightstand. He came back to Cas’s side and opened a tab to Charlie’s blog, a page filled with posts about cover bands and why Harry Potter rocks, period. On the outside it looked like any nerd’s personal page, but Dean knew Charlie’s secret side business.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked when Dean began typing quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard.

“Wait…” Dean said, and then grinned widely when the code went through and a new webpage popped up instead. This one was a clean white page with little text on it, simply advertising Charlie’s “extra” skills in computer hacking.

Cas’s eyebrows quirked up when he got a good glance at the page. “Is that Charlie from the bar?”

Dean nodded and repositioned the laptop on the bed. “She’s, uh, kinda a master class hacker. She could get us set up, possibly erase us from every database if we asked.” He turned towards Cas and laid a hand on his knee. “We could do it, Cas. If anyone can get us off grid, it’s Charlie.”

Cas bit his lip and brought his knees up to his chest. “It’s risky. I don’t like it,” he replied.

Dean’s face fell and he kicked the laptop shut with his foot. That’s it, then? They were just going to leave it? Was it possible that Cas didn’t even want to run away with Dean? Did he not love him like Dean loved Cas? _Figures_ , he thought bitterly. _Cas deserves the world. He could do better than a guy like me, who only has a car and virtually no money, who is asking him to run away to live on the road._

“But I’m willing to risk it if you are,” Cas said, and Dean felt himself jump in place. Did...did they just agree to run?

“Cas…”

“I want to be with you,” Cas interjected, eyes warm as they roamed over Dean’s body. “When I imagine a future, it’s with you. It always has been. But Dean, you need to be sure that it’ll be like we never existed. I can’t let Rowena find you. If she does, then I’m going down first. I won’t let that asshat touch you or get near you. I promise.”

He held out a pinky finger and Dean just groaned. Cas was such a dork at times.

“Are we really pinky swearing on this?” Dean complained, but complied when Cas threw him a cold look. When they broke apart, a wide grin turned up on Dean’s face. “We’re really running? Really?”

Cas leaned in and left a kiss on Dean’s lips. “Yes, Dean. We’re running. How fast can Charlie get us off the internet?”

Dean picked up his phone and thumbed through his old texts. She’d gotten Dean a few bootlegs before, but nothing like this. “No clue. I’ll go by The Dragon Room tomorrow before rehearsal and see if she’s there.”

Cas nodded and then captured Dean’s lips in a kiss again, this one more intense than earlier. He felt his chest flutter as Cas prowled forward and brought his hands up to Dean’s face, cupping his cheeks as he pushed his tongue inside of Dean’s mouth. If that was not bad enough, he couldn’t hide the animalistic groan that fell from his lips when Cas crawled into his lap and grinded down, bringing about a whole new wave of ecstasy.

“Time for a quickie?” Dean moaned when Cas began nipping at his earlobe.

Cas laughed into his neck and climbed off of him, and Dean whined at the loss of contact. “Do you really want Sam finding me in your bed when he comes home? You know Jess’s first class of the day began five minutes ago and that he’ll be back any minute now.”

 _Oh shit._ How could he forget the biggest part of his life he’d be leaving behind? “Wait, Cas...what about Sam? And Jess too? What are we gonna tell them when we run off?”

Cas sobered up and furrowed his eyebrows while he thought it over. “I don’t know. We can’t tell them the truth, at least not right away. They’re the first ones Crowley will go to when I run. They can’t know anything until they aren’t in immediate danger.”

“And when will that be?” Dean asked under his breath.

Cas sighed and ran fingers through his hair. “I don’t know.”

“Great. So we’re just gonna fall off the face of the earth without anyone knowing? Not even our closest friends and family? Shit Cas, I know that safety is important and all, but at what cost? If we disappear, do you really think Jess and Sam will let it go? Will our friends?”

“I know,” Cas whispered as he picked at a loose thread on the comforter. “But it’s what’s best for them, at least until Crowley gets off their track.”

Dean pushed his lips down into a line. “Oh really? ‘Cause to me it sounds like we’re just gonna save ourselves and leave everyone we know in the dust.”

Cas’s fingers stilled on the fabric before he turned his gaze up to Dean. It was icy and filled with tension, and Dean felt himself gulp.

“Do you think I’ve never considered telling Jess everything?” he growled under his breath as his eyes flashed like blue fire. “Do you think I’ve never had the truth bubble at my lips before, almost getting out before I caught myself? Jess is my best friend and I’ve almost told her a thousand times, but I value her life too much to put her in danger. I thought you understood that-”

“I understand that we’re gonna drive off this cliff together without anyone knowin’!” Dean exclaimed as he tossed his hands up in the air. “Dammit Cas, I...I can’t leave without knowing that Sam’ll be alright, Jess too. Can’t we at least come up with a cover story? Something to give us time?”

For a brief blip in time, the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of trees rustling outside of Dean’s window and the distant blare of a car horn. Neither of them were making any moves, minds racing as they came up with something, anything they could tell Jess and Sam. There had to be something believable, right? Because Dean was not just about to up and leave his brother with no explanation. He’d never be able go day after day, not knowing what Sam was doing or if he was even okay.

Thankfully, Cas perked up after a few minutes and he began nodding his head quickly.

“We can tell them that I broke up with Crowley. That way, if he comes around they’ll be cautious to tell him anything. We’ll tell them that we’re going on a road trip for the summer to clear my head and get distance. You can still call Sam, I can talk to Jess, and when the time comes when they’re safe, we’ll tell them everything.” Cas reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand. “I want them in our lives just as much as you do. You understand that, right?”

Dean glanced down at their clasped fingers and nodded. “Yeah Cas, I understand.”

“Thank you,” Cas replied, then pecked a quick kiss on Dean’s cheek. “I better get going before I miss the 8:30 bus.”

Dean swore loudly when he glanced over at the alarm clock and saw the blinking, neon numbers. “It’s that late already? I told Rufus I’d help him down at the shop today!”

Cas snickered and got out of bed, grabbing his clothes from the floor before snagging one of Dean’s undershirts to put on. “Then you better take a shower before you go. Don’t want Rufus to smell the sex on you,” he teased with a wink.

Dean grabbed his boxers from the ground and pulled them on quickly, then threw Cas’s wallet at him from the nightstand. “Nagging me already? Couldn’t wait until after the wedding?”

Cas paused in buttoning up his collared shirt, and Dean turned bright vermillion when he realized his faux pas.

“Arg...I didn’t…” he stammered, but Cas just laughed as he walked over to Dean and laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Dean with wide eyes and said, “I’ll need a better proposal if I’m gonna marry you.”

Dean relaxed and pushed Cas’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah. You think you’re all that, Novak?”

Cas winked at him and grabbed his shoes from the floor. “Please. I know I’m all that, Winchester.”

Dean crossed his arms over his body and smiled as Cas threw on that hideous trench coat that he refused to get rid of. It took a while, but once he got up from the bed and kissed Cas goodbye, he realized this would be their lives. Cas was going to give up his only kin, his future, his fortune, all for him. Every day he would get to see Cas’s face, bodies curled together like parentheses in whichever crappy motel bed they’d be in that day. He’d get to explore the nation with Cas nosily asking about directions and where they’d be going next, and they’d get to try out a ton of roadside diners. Maybe they’d even take a trip to Atlantic City, get married in a rundown chapel by an Elvis impersonator.

Imagining it made Dean feel like flying, and he couldn’t help but grab Cas’s arm when he was about to walk out the door and pull him back into an embrace, arms curling around Cas like a vice.

“I love you,” Dean whispered into Cas’s ear, the words flowing easily off his tongue in a way they never had before.

He felt Cas lips curl up against his neck and then pulled back.

“I love you, too,” Cas whispered after a beat of quiet, and then leaned in to kiss Dean once again.

It was quick, easy. Cas’s lips pecked against his before they both broke out into a fit of giggles, foreheads touching as they gripped one another’s arms tightly.

“Call me when you get home, alright?” Dean asked as they let go of one another and Cas turned towards the door again.

“Will do.” Cas paused, and then leaned back on his heels before biting his lip. He let one hand rest on the doorknob as he whispered, “I never thought I’d get out of Crowley’s clutches, but you saved me. Thank you.”

Dean rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and shrugged lightly. “Well, I think it’s you that’s savin’ me, Cas,” he muttered under his breath. “But if you want, you can repay me one day. I’m sure I’ll need saving on the road from a bar fight or something like that.”

Cas nodded and grabbed his phone from his pocket, probably to read emails on the bus, he’d reckon. “I’ll come to your rescue one day. You’ll see, Dean.” He smirked as he began walking backwards into the hallway. “You can just call me Han Solo.”

“Hey! Does that make me Princess Leia?” he called after Cas, but he was already loping around the corner and out of sight. “She’s pretty badass too, you know! Cas? Cas!”

Too late. Cas was already gone.

 _That’s okay,_ Dean thought. _We’ve got all the time in the world._


	26. Chapter 26

When Cas stepped out of Dean’s apartment building and onto Fifth Avenue, he was giddier than he’d ever been. Last night had been nothing short of _magical._ The way Dean’s fingers traced constellations on his body as their lips collided, the way he moaned Cas’s name into his collarbone as they moved together, the way Dean took care of him in every way imaginable before ever thinking about himself, was like living in a dream. Remembering made Cas’s cheeks turn a rosy red as he flipped up the collar of his jacket against the blustery wind.

Perhaps it was the remnants of the postcoital haze that clouded Cas’s judgment, but as Cas made his way down Fifth and crossed over to Ninth, he allowed himself to imagine a future with Dean now that they had a plan. He envisioned a big, beautiful house filled with Dean’s vinyl records. They’d be stacked up against an old, worn down bookcase that Cas found at an antique store, and the vintage record player would croon out the sounds of Frank Sinatra as Cas prepared dinner for his boyfriend. He could imagine Jess and Sam coming to visit them often, maybe a child of their own in tow. Cas would keep a separate stash of toys for the little boy or girl, because he knew Jess would never remember to bring them with her. They’d sit around, drink whiskey and wine while the fire roared in the background on the cold, winter nights. They would explore each other’s bodies, would fall deeper and deeper in love with each other with every passing day. They’d be _happy_.

The picture was perfect in his head, distracting him from the nip of an unusually chilly morning as he quickly decided to opt out of the bus and jogged the five blocks to his apartment instead. He couldn’t help but hold on to the thought of escaping the life he was destined for as he rode the elevator up to his floor and pushed the key into the door. A thousand watt grin was on his face as he walked into the apartment, oblivious to the drawn drapes and eerie quiet, and remained as he deposited his keys on a nearby table and toed off his boots.

“Crowley?” Cas called out of habit. “Are you home?”

“In the living room, darling,” he heard Crowley’s crass voice call, and Cas’s blood ran cold. “Can you come in for a minute, I need to have a talk with you.”

Cas panicked when he began to fit the pieces together. Crowley told Cas that his flight didn’t get back in until late. It was why Cas chanced sleeping at Dean’s instead of going right home. When did he get back and realize Cas wasn’t there?

He tried to be positive. Maybe Crowley didn’t put two and two together, he thought. However, when he walked into the living room and found Crowley sitting in his favorite armchair with a revolver resting on his lap, Cas froze.

“Castiel, please. Take a seat,” Crowley said in an overly polite tone as he gestured to the couch across from him.

Cas felt sweat dewing on the back of his neck as he followed Crowley’s orders. He carefully trekked over to the couch, trying not to make any movements that would cause Crowley to shoot because it didn’t take a genius to figure out why his fiancé was lounging around casually with a gun. _He knows_ , Cas thought.

“Do you know when I got this gun?” Crowley asked with a quirked eyebrow. He brought it up and fiddled with the trigger, and Cas curled his fingers into the couch fabric to keep from jerking in fear. “I got it when I was fifteen. Mother handed it over and said ‘use it if necessary.’ I never thought I’d need it. I prefer to do my bidding the old fashioned way; words are just as persuasive as a weapon, I’ve found. And yet,” Crowley whispered in an eerily calm tone, “I’ve noticed over the years that some situations cannot be handled with words alone. That is what leads us here, I’m afraid.”

Cas watched wide-eyed as Crowley got up from his chair and walked towards him. His fingers trailed over the gun like he was petting a cat, and it took everything in Cas not to flinch when Crowley leaned down next to his ear.

“A little birdy told me that you’ve been unfaithful, Castiel. Did you forget that I have eyes everywhere?” Crowley whispered venomously, breath wet and warm against his neck. “I know that you slept with that manwhore, Dean Winchester, last night. I know that you’ve been seeing him behind my back, and I know that you are hopelessly in love with him. Am I wrong about any of that?”

“You have no proof and know nothing,” Cas replied quickly, fruitlessly hoping that the blatant lie would gain him enough time to think a way out of this confrontation.

No luck. Crowley leaned back and laughed humorlessly. “No proof? Where did you get that necklace, Castiel?”

He cringed. “I found it on eBay,” he lied through his teeth, but it was no use. Crowley wasn’t buying it.

“You and your friends are pathetic,” Crowley spat. “Jessica told me that she found it at a thrift store a few weeks ago.” He curled his lip into a crude line, bringing the gun up to eye level with one hand while he reached into his back pocket with the other. What he pulled out was a nondescript prepaid phone, black and ultimately unnoticeable; the perfect device for someone to spy with.

“Like I said, I have eyes everywhere. Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out? Did you really think I’d let Rowena’s blessing flourish without having you followed? Poor, naive Castiel.”

Crowley tossed the phone into Cas’s lap while he lowered the gun. “The proof is in the pictures, darling.”

Cas didn’t need to look at the phone to know what he was going to see. Trying his best to keep a calm facade, he reached down and thumbed through the grainy photos. One was a picture of him and Dean leaving The Roadhouse together, arms wrapped around each other as they stumbled drunkenly around the parking lot. There was a photo of him kissing Dean outside the Thompson Center, another of them talking in the Impala, another of them walking up to Dean’s apartment last night.

“Who. Who, Crowley?” Cas demanded.

“Nobody you know, don’t worry,” Crowley said with the toss of his hand. “You can get anyone for the right price, and he’s already agreed to finish up the job for me, if you catch my drift.”

 _No_ , Cas helplessly thought. _Not Dean._

“Don’t hurt him,” Cas gasped out, because it was the only thing he could think to say. “I’ll do anything you want if you just leave him out of this.”

Crowley snickered under his breath and reached over to take Cas’s chin in his palm. He violently turned Cas’s head in his direction and he was forced to look into Crowley’s disgustingly pleased face.

“Oh Castiel, how the mighty have fallen,” he teased. “You could’ve been great, you know. A leader in a powerful corporation, a person to be feared by the masses. But look at you,” he laughed without humor. “Now you’re just a cheap whore.”

He tried to turn away from Crowley, but he had him gripped tight between his fingers and wasn’t about to let him go. Cas felt helpless at that moment, and thinking about how ecstatic he’d been only a few moments earlier had him reeling on the inside.

“Please,” Cas begged, because he didn’t know what else to do. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll go to England with you. I’ll marry you at the courthouse tomorrow if that is what you want, but leave Dean alone.”

Crowley eyed him up and down before pushing him away. Cas fell backwards and onto the floor, feeling like a bug that was about to be rubbed into the cement after getting walked on. When he looked up, Crowley revealed the gun holster on his belt and put the weapon away.

“Here is what is going to happen, Castiel. You are going to break off any connection you have to Dean. In return, I will allow you to finish participating in this irrelevant play of yours, and immediately after we will get on a plane to England and marry. You will never talk of this again. You will never bring up Dean Winchester in front of me, and if you do I will track that piece of shit down and put the bullet in him myself. Are we clear, dear?”

Cas clenched his eyes shut when he answered. “Yes, I understand,” he got out, but it felt like everything was falling apart around him.

“Good. Now, be a good little slut and wash up. You are stinking of sex, darling.”

Without another word, Cas nodded woodenly, got up from the ground and made his way back to his bedroom. It was only once he was positive Crowley couldn’t hear him that he let the tears fall and collapsed against the doorframe, letting the images of hope Dean gave him flutter away forever.


	27. Chapter 27

Dean _loathed_ tech week. Between Garth’s faulty lights, Meg forgetting her lines every five seconds, and Sam acting like an angry ex-wife around anyone who tried to talk to him, Dean was fed up with almost everyone in this cast. He could see the light at the end of the tunnel with the theatre festival only being days away, but it felt like miles when Benny’s costume ripped during the Green Fairy number and Anna nearly fell from her harness. 

“Can we at least try to make it through the entire first act at least once?” Sam called out when Meg once again asked for her line. “We were supposed to be off book weeks ago! Do you not realize this is for a full ride to college? I need you guys to be on point, all the time from now on. Are we clear?” 

“Yes, sir!” Garth yelled from the tech booth, and the bitch face Sam sent him was harsh enough to even make Dean feel bad for the kid. 

Sam took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He rubbed the back of his neck and then said, “Okay, let’s take it from the top.” 

Dean sighed before getting into position for the scene they were about to practice. It was one of the bigger moments of the show, and he’d been working on it with Cas for a few weeks now. They almost had it perfect, but tapping into the character’s feelings of betrayal and heartbreak was hard to come by when he was so damn happy in his personal life. It was like Dean couldn’t go anywhere without smiling these days, knowing that in a week he’d be on the road with Cas, running like Thelma and Louise with only the stars above them as their guide. 

He thought Cas would be the same way, but he had no trouble reciting his lines and playing the part. Dean was beyond impressed with Cas’s ability to fall into his character so easily; when Satine was telling Christian that he was going to leave with the Duke, it almost felt real at times, like Cas had experienced it personally before. 

“Cas! Come over and get ready!” Sam yelled out when he didn’t come to his marker immediately. 

Cas threw him a tired look before he dragged his feet and plopped himself in place. When he glanced up at Dean, he was taken aback by how exhausted Cas looked, like he hadn’t gotten proper rest in days. The bags under his eyes were beginning to turn puffy and the usual gleam he radiated was dull and faded.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Dean asked under his breath. 

Cas smiled grimly before he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. “I need to talk to you.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Okay, we can take Baby out after rehearsal before-”

“Actually, we need to talk now.” 

“Uh, okay?” Dean replied. He took Cas’s arm and dragged him offstage, ignoring Sam’s annoyed yells for them to come back until they were just faded echoes through the corridors. He walked with Cas until they were out of hearing range, ducking into an unused dressing room and closing the door quietly. 

“Cas, what’s-”

“I’m leaving with Crowley,” Cas interrupted with his eyes shut. 

Dean gaped back at him. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Cas curled his fingers into a fist and glanced at Dean with tired eyes. “He’s offering everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said with a watery smile. “Broadway, living in New York, everything. I can have it all...but I must marry him for it.” 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It had to be a ploy, right? A joke to throw him off? 

“Very funny, but you don’t need to show me you’re a good actor, Cas. I know that already. Now, let’s just go back-”

“I’m not joking, Dean,” Cas said in a monotone voice. He leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m leaving after the production is completed. Crowley has already lined up five auditions for me in New York. I could be the next Tony winner if all goes well. Please, understand,” Cas practically pleaded before him, but Dean didn’t have the words to respond. He was serious? He was going to leave Dean just like that? No, Crowley was behind this. There was no other way. 

“Listen Cas, if Crowley found out we’ll run tonight. We just won’t go back. The Impala’s out front. Let’s just drive, okay? He’ll never find us. I’ll get Charlie working faster on our fake IDs and credit cards.” He brought his hands up and placed them on Cas’s face. “Cas, we can do it. Don’t let Crowley get to you.” 

Cas brought his fingers up and removed Dean’s hand from his head. When he looked at Dean again, tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m sorry it has to end this way,” he whispered under his breath. 

Dean jumped away like he’d been struck by lightning. Cas wasn’t kidding; he was going to forfeit everything they had with one another? What about the promises they made, the night at Dean’s apartment they shared? What about the nights they’d spent together before that, in Baby or at the Roadhouse or in costume closets? Was it all a lie, then? Did Cas ever care? 

_What about the ‘I love you?’_ his thoughts helpfully provided, and that is when Dean felt himself turn furious. Cas told him that he loved him. Was that a lie, too? 

“No,” Dean breathed out and glanced at his boots. “No Cas, you don’t get to just walk away from this. What...what about our plans?” 

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry isn’t good enough, Cas!” Dean exclaimed, loud enough that the following quiet rang in his ears and caused him to blanch at his outburst. When he saw Cas’s lower lip beginning to wobble, Dean felt himself on the verge of crying too, but he blinked the oncoming tears away. Instead, he tried to focus on the bubbling frustration that was beginning to boil under his skin. It was always easier to be angry than sad, after all. 

“You lied to me. You told me that you loved me and now you’re just giving up on us? That’s bullshit, Cas! Utter bull. You can’t just tell someone that you’re in love with them and just leave. You know how shitty that is, Cas? Do you know-”

“Of course I know!” Cas roared out as tears began to run in rivulets down his cheeks. “Do you think this is easy for me? I am making a lifelong choice here, Dean. This could be my only shot to be on Broadway and I need to take it. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do, it’s just...I can’t lose this chance at my dream. And if you can’t understand that, then maybe it’s for the best we’re not running away.” 

Dean couldn’t look at Cas. Disgust was rising within him. He was disgusted at Cas for dragging him along, only to leave him the minute a better opportunity came along. He was disgusted at Crowley for existing, because Dean knew deep down that he definitely had something to do with Cas’s decision. But most of all, he was disgusted at himself for letting himself get involved with Cas in the first place. He always knew it would end, either with Cas leaving or at the barrel of Crowley’s gun. He was told that from the very beginning. But there was a part of him that always believed they’d be able to get their happy ending, that Dean would be able to one day call Cas his boyfriend in public without looking around every corner for Crowley’s beady face. He imagined a life where the ring on Cas’s finger wouldn’t be Crowley’s black one, but would be his grandfather’s gold band that’s been passed down for generations. Hell, he even thought about adopting a few kids and a dog in the future, after they were done running and Crowley was off their trail for good. 

But when Dean glanced over at Cas and saw him looking so dejected, all of that faded in an instant. Cas was crying and Dean was too, tears running down his face when the truth set in. Cas was leaving. They’d never make love again, feel each other’s movements between the sheets or hear each other’s breathy moans. They’d never kiss lazily on the grass as they counted stars in the sky, trying to find constellations that Cas memorized in his astrology class. They’d never spend the entire night talking about everything and anything, from Aristotle’s philosophy to the latest pop culture news They were done. 

“Dean-”

“Let’s just go back out there,” Dean interrupted as he pushed the palms of his hands against his eyes, willing the tears away. “I’ll work with you until the festival is over, but after that we’re done. I don’t want to ever see or talk to you again, understand?” 

Cas nodded woodenly as he too tried to rub the tear tracks off his cheeks. 

Dean turned around and opened the door, gesturing for Cas to walk out. “Let’s go. Sam’s probably wondering where we went to.” 

Without uttering a word, Cas left the room and began walking quickly down the hallway. Dean leaned against the doorframe as he watched Cas leave, and tried to force down all of the confusion he was feeling. 

When Dean got back to the stage, for the first time he nailed Christian’s part perfectly. Funny how experience can change everything.


	28. Chapter 28

Of course it would all end where it began. Cas always was one for poetics, after all. 

Opening night was a frenzy when Cas arrived at the Lawrence Community Theatre. It was the town’s biggest triumph, a building constructed in the 1900s by the Kansas governor at the time. Its outside was not much to the naked eye, but the inside was lavish. Paintings of cherubim angels lined the walls and the ceiling was solid gold, glittering against the crystal chandeliers that were installed a few years back. The chairs were a ruby velvet and the stage was a thousand times nicer than the one at Lawrence U, made of real wood that looked brand new, regardless of age. Directors and producers and lovers of the theatre lined the walkway as Cas fought his way to the front, nearly knocking into an older woman with a chihuahua popping out of her purse when he confirmed his name with the bouncer. All in all, Cas felt a bit overwhelmed, but from the crowds or his breakup with Dean, he was unsure. 

With a sigh, Cas tried to forget about Dean as he traversed towards the backstage area and into the throngs of cast and crew. Now wasn’t the time to be wondering if he make a mistake with Dean; all he could focus on was putting out his best performance. 

“There you are!” Jess called when he popped around a corner and into the dressing rooms. Ruby and Meg were adjusting their makeup in the mirror while Tracy and Alex helped one another with their hair by the doorway. “You’re late.” 

Cas blushed. “Apologies.” 

Jess sighed, gesturing to the line of costumes he’d be changing in and out of during the musical. “It’s fine, but you’ll need to change quickly. Doors just opened and we’re on in fifteen.”

He walked over to the piles of clothing while Jess left the room in a flurry of blonde curls. He wordlessly took off his jeans and t-shirt and replaced them with the tight fitting, leather pants he was supposed to wear for the first number. They fit perfectly, and Cas grinned when he remembered when they were fitted to his body. Dean was there and couldn’t say a thing around the others, but kept making lewd eyes at him the entire time. 

He felt a punch of heartbreak rip through him when he imagined Dean’s face. It had been so free and open back then, and it felt like ages since he’d even seen Dean smile. Their last rehearsals went okay, but not great. Sam was frustrated at them because it was clear something changed, but he couldn’t point it out. All the while, Dean could barely glance at him for longer than was necessary, and Cas could barely get his lines out without breaking into tears. They were an absolute mess; how could they get through this together?

Cas pushed off those images and quickly tossed on his matching black vest over his bare chest, then quickly put the cobalt tie that was taking place of his necklace. He tried to wear the gem after his break up with Dean, but it felt like the metal was mocking him when he caught its gleam in the mirror. It only took a day for him to rip it off and shove it into one of his packed suitcases, ready to be thrown on the first plane to London. 

“This is it, people!” Cas heard Sam’s call, and he turned on his heel and tramped into the backstage area. When he arrived, Cas saw Anna and Jo giggling as they toppled out of a set piece, lips clearly swollen from kissing, while Meg fixed her makeup in a backstage mirror and Ruby pulled down the hemline of her dress. Alfie, Kali, Alex, Bartholomew, and Tracy were already anxiously waiting for Sam’s orders, while Benny and Dean walked in from the right wing. Along with the ensemble members, everyone’s accounted for. 

Well, except for one person. 

“Where’s Gabriel?” Sam exclaimed loudly, looking around the stage and coming up with nothing. “He was supposed to be in sound check ages ago!” 

“GERONIMO!” a voice screeched from above, and the next thing Cas knew a blur of blonde hair was flying above them on a harness, the cape of his costume flowing in the wind. It didn’t take a genius to know who it was, and sure enough, once he came to a stop, Gabriel landed with a Cheshire cat grin on his face, clearly pleased with himself.

Sam, on the other hand, was not nearly as amused. 

“Are you crazy? We’re five minutes until opening curtain and you decide to pull a stunt like that? I can’t, I won’t-”

“Whoa, calm down there, Sambo,” Gabriel crooned, walking over to swing an arm around Sam’s body. “I was just lightening the mood a bit.” 

Sam threw him off and tossed up his hands. “I can’t even argue with you right now. We’re on in five and I need all of you to be the best you’ve ever been. There’s a full ride on the line, people! The panel judges are in the front row, plus I saw our competition. If anything’s going to beat _West Side Story_ in space, it’s gonna be us. We’ve put months of work, sweat, and tears into this production. Don’t let me down now!” 

Jess came up to his side and put her arm around his waist. “What he’s trying to say is go out there and give us the best possible performance that you can. You are all incredible for putting up with this one for eight months.” She nudged Sam in the side and he winced, causing everyone in the room to giggle lowly. “You are all amazing, and we thank you for your service to this production. Now, let’s go out there and kick some ass!” 

A cheer uproared from everyone, but Cas couldn’t find it in himself to join along. Across the room, Dean was talking lowly with Benny while Garth fiddled with their mics. For a brief moment their eyes met, and it was like nothing was different. The feeling of warmth that came with looking at Dean filled him up and vibrated through his bones, but when Dean looked away with a harsh glare and a stoic pout, it faded just as quickly.

He couldn’t believe that this is what it came to. Everything he ever wanted was fifteen feet from him, and yet it was impossible to reach. _It’s for the best_ , he reminded himself. _He can walk away from this, from me and my fate._ And yet a tiny, selfish part of Cas didn’t want him to. His heart ached for Dean’s, for the touches they shared only a week earlier, the kisses they laid on each other’s lips, the declarations of love and promises he wasn’t able to upkeep. His bed was cold without him by his side, his future an empty abyss. 

“Cas!” Jess hissed, and it caused him to jump out of his reverie. “Get off set! We’re starting!” 

Sure enough, everyone else had walked off left and were awaiting for the lights to dim and the music to begin. Well, everyone except Dean and Benny, who were in place on stage, ready to sing to opening lines of the song while Dean faked typing on an old typewriter. Again their eyes met when Cas didn’t move, and again he felt the crushing pain of lost love when Dean just waved his hand at him, mouthing ‘get off the stage, idiot.’ 

He tumbled backwards into the left wing and nearly crashed into a prop, just in time for the notes to swoon over the speakers and the curtains to be drawn. When the lights went up and scattered the darkness, only then did Cas truly appreciate the beauty of Sam’s vision. The set was nothing short of breathtaking, with the opening scene being set in modern day New York, just like he envisioned. Dean- or Christian, in this case- was seated on an unmade, wooden bed, typewriter before him as he let fake tears fall onto the pages with a realistic looking painting of the skyline in the background. The furniture on the stage was rustic and perfect for the scene, a personal donation from Rowena’s old cottage in Scotland. She was so enthusiastic about the play that she flew the chests and dressers thousands of miles, plus paid a fortune to get it there. If Cas didn’t know that she was an evil bitch he would’ve been grateful, but instead he just grimaced. 

He didn’t get to think about Crowley’s mother for long before his gaze caught the lights focusing on Dean. He looked stunning in his costume, dressed in black slacks and an open white button down, revealing his toned chest and sharp collarbones…

 _Get yourself together_ , Cas chastised himself. _He’s not yours to ogle anymore._

He was grateful when Benny’s bass filled the auditorium and distracted him from Dean’s physique. It was his cue to leave and get ready for his first appearance of the night, descending from the rafters during the ‘Sparkling Diamonds’ number. He hurried away from the stage and found Jess motioning for him to come over. 

“Hurry up! I don’t want to chance you being late,” she whispered as she shoved Cas’s hat in his direction. 

He popped the fedora on his head and adjusted the lapels of his costume. “Do I look okay?” he asked Jess. 

She smirked at him and flipped his tie around. “Now you do,” Jess replied. “It goes with those leather pants of yours. But really, will you ever learn how to put on a tie correctly?” she teased while she strapped him into the complicated harness. 

“Doubt it,” he muttered under his breath, remembering that Dean always used to fix his ties when he was wearing them. 

“Ready?” Jess muttered in his ear, but didn’t wait for a response before she motioned for the stage crew to hoist him up into the air. 

On the ascent, Cas took in the view from the top. He glanced down and saw the first scene with Bartholomew, Benny, and Dean occurring on stage. The crew had changed out Christian’s bedroom for a bar, and the three men were arguing over what the lyrics to a song were until the music came in and Dean was singing again. All the while, Cas just sat on the rafter, absolutely mesmerized by Dean’s ability to hit the perfect pitch every time. 

Afterwards, Anna was lifted into the rafters with him and tossed Cas a quick smirk before she descended into view, green lights flying around the stage as the group of playwrights drank absinthe and got lost in Green Fairy’s magic. They yelled about the important things like beauty, freedom, truth, and most importantly, love, before they composed themselves and convinced Christian to go meet the elusive Satine at the Moulin Rouge. 

He curled his fingers around the harness’ tethers as he awaited his cue. For a brief, fleeting moment, Cas panicked. Could he face Dean after their break up? 

_No time for thinking like that_ , Cas mused to himself. The ensemble was on stage now, dancing and kicking their legs in modern day cancan uniforms while Gabriel’s Zidler jiggled his ass to the beat of the drum. In a minute it would be Cas’s turn to descend in a cloud of glitter and sing out his first lines, and he couldn't do that if he was not fully focused. 

_You’re doing this for everyone. Sam and Jess are counting on perfection. Be your best,_ Cas reminded himself as the music changed and the ensemble flittered off and the energy on stage changed.

It was the last thing Cas considered before his cue came in and he was lifted from the rafter. He brought his fingers up and adjusted his fedora over one eye as he fluttered into view, and then sang like he’d never had before. 

_“The French are glad to die for love…”_

And then he was off, singing and dancing and entertaining a room three times the size of Lawrence U’s theatre. Despite their new animosity, Cas was pleased to find out that they could keep it civil when they were performing. Dean acted like the past week hadn’t happened at all. They were back to their usual selves; their chemistry was like fire on the stage, bright and bountiful for everyone to see. And by the time intermission rolled around, he already was hearing mutterings about this being the production to beat. 

“Great first act, everyone!” Sam called out when everyone ran off stage after ‘Come What May,’ patting them on the shoulders as they walked by. “Now let’s put on an even better act two!” 

Cas weakly smiled up at Sam when he touched his arm and tried not to show how the energy from the stage was already fading. He was glad to have the twenty minute intermission to get himself prepared for act two, which was much more demanding, physically and emotionally. This was when the play began hitting close to home, from Satine’s lies to keep Christian safe to Christian’s haunting line of ‘I’ve paid my whore.’ All of it would be a whirlwind to perform, and Cas just prayed that he’d be able to keep it together. 

He was planning on going into his dressing room for some much needed alone time as he navigated through the hectic backstage, but a hand landed on his arm and yanked him backwards. 

“Where are you going, darling?” Crowley asked while he curled his fingers tight around Cas’s bicep, making escape impossible. 

Cas curled his lips up into a sugary sweet, overdone smile. “Nowhere, darling,” he snapped back as he gently pried Crowley’s fingers off of him. 

“Don’t give me attitude, Castiel,” Crowley growled as he began trekking towards the right wing. “Come with me. There’s someone who wants to have a word with you.” 

He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight against it. The last thing Cas needed was an unhappy Crowley before his final act, after all. 

When he pushed past the other cast members and stumbled into the wing, he was surprised at how dark it was. Did someone turn off the lights or something? But when he wandered further in and found who Crowley wanted him to talk with, it all was perfectly clear. 

“Castiel,” Rowena crooned in her Scottish accent. “It’s been too long. It’s a pleasure to see you again, dearie.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Cas muttered under his breath. 

She gleamed back at him and put her hands on her hips. “Fergus told me that your first act was delightful. I wish I was here to see it, but my flight got delayed from London. But I can’t wait to watch the second one and hear all about the first when we fly back tonight.” 

Cas caught Crowley’s gaze and they both rolled their eyes. If there was one thing they agreed on, it was their hatred of the woman in front of them. 

Rowena clapped her hands together and flashed her overtly white teeth at them. “Well, what are you waiting for, my wee sausage? I want a good seat for the big finale!” 

And with that, Rowena grabbed Crowley’s ear and dragged him off like a misbehaving child through the backstage area and into the audience. Cas couldn’t hide the smile that rose on his face when he witnessed Crowley being the one tossed around for a change, but that faded the minute he turned towards the curtain and found Dean standing in front of him, a shocked expression on his face. 

They stood there for quite some time, just staring at each other like gaping fish. Cas didn’t know what to say, and it was clear Dean didn’t either. It took a good minute before Dean opened his mouth and blurted out: 

“Is that Rowena?” 

Cas nodded sadly, eyes downcast. “Yes.” 

Dean popped his lips before he rocked back on his heels. “Well. Okay then.” He glanced down at Cas’s breastbone and crossed his arms over his chest. “That necklace was for the show, you know,” Dean muttered, nodding at the blue tie Cas wore instead. 

“This is adequate,” Cas replied in a quiet tone. “I couldn’t…,” he trailed off, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Oh,” Dean said. 

“Yeah.” 

Silence again. The other cast and crew were flurrying around them, but Dean and Cas felt like they were on an island where time didn’t move. Cas hated it. He hated the way Dean couldn’t look him in the eye without frowning, despised that he couldn’t say a word without feeling incredibly awkward. It was like they were perfect strangers, not two people who were confessing love to one another a week ago. 

“I should…” Dean trailed off, pointing his thumb in the direction of the dressing rooms. 

“Yes, you should,” Cas said with a weak smile, and when Dean didn’t return it Cas felt himself break a tiny bit more. He was so close to having everything. How did it all end up like this? 

Dean just nodded at him once before turning in the other direction and walking away. Cas couldn’t help but linger on Dean’s form as he retreated into the dressing room and out of sight. If he was going to leave Dean behind, he needed to get every last glance he could manage before he got on that plane to England. 

“You love him.” 

Cas whirled around at the voice and jumped when he found Gabriel standing behind him with a saddened expression on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and glanced towards the door Dean just went through. “You love him but you can’t have him. Tragic.” 

Cas felt himself clawing for a rebuttal to Gabriel’s observation, but he found nothing. Why bother fighting it anyway? If Gabriel found out that he’s in love with Dean, nothing would change. And there was a certain comfort in someone else knowing how he felt. 

“I do,” he whispered under his breath. “I love him.” 

Gabriel quirked up his eyebrows and pulled his lips into a Cheshire cat grin. “Wait...I’m right? I was right all along? Oh damn, Jo owes me big!” he exclaimed loudly, and Cas glared at him harshly. 

“Why don’t you just exclaim it for everyone to hear, won’t you?” Cas hissed while he pulled Gabriel into the wings again, relishing the cover of darkness it brought. 

Gabriel whistled lowly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry, compadre.” 

Cas ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t change anything about it. I’m with Crowley, end of story.” 

“But if you love Dean, why can’t you break up with Crowley? He’s a creepy bastard, but I bet even he doesn’t want to be dragged along like that, knowin’ you love someone else and all.” 

Cas knew he couldn’t tell Gabriel the full truth, so he bit his lip and said, “It’s just not meant to be.” 

“That’s horseshit, Cas, and you know it,” Gabriel countered as he pulled a lollipop out of his costume pocket. “If you love Dean, you gotta tell him. You’ll regret it forever if you don’t even try.” 

“Places, everyone!” Jess called out then, interrupting their conversation. The cast began running around as they prepared for the opening scene of act two, a montage of Satine and Christian’s relationship that took months to perfect. He found Dean already at his marker in the middle of the stage, and Jess was frantically waving at him to come over. 

Gabriel grabbed his arm before he was able to leave the wing. “Just think about it, okay?” he whispered in his ear, and then let Cas go before he wandered off to the upstage area where the rest of the ensemble cast and Benny were located. 

“Psh. Think about it,” Cas muttered under his breath as he made his way over to Dean across the room. Of course he’d thought about it. It was the only thing he could think of these past few days. Was it too late to change his mind, get Dean back? He was trying to do what was not only best for Dean, but his other friends too. It felt like the responsible choice, but was it the right one? 

“And we’re on in three, two, one-”

The curtain rose and the lights hit Cas’s eyes once again, music lowly playing over the speakers as the audience calmed down and focused on the stage again. Cas caught Rowena’s eye in the front row and tried not to grimace when she winked at him. 

He was thankful for the crescendoing music when it roared through the speakers, because that signaled the beginning of the act. He fell into character easily, and Dean did too. Once again they were able to upkeep their personas and play off each other’s chemistry. When Cas glanced over at the judges and found them nodding in approval, that only brought more confidence to his performance. He put more emotion into his voice and sang louder than before. He danced with longer lines and played to the audience, too.

But during it all, Cas couldn’t shake Gabriel’s voice from his head. When he kissed Dean in the second act, he felt his heart crack into a thousand pieces. When Cas touched Dean as Satine, he imagined that they were curled up in the Impala’s warm, rundown seats instead of on a stage bed that was cold and hard. The longer the play went on, the more Cas began to doubt his choice. Being near Dean again, having his hands on his body, hearing his voice croon love songs in his ear, it felt real. But it couldn’t be, could it? Not after Dean believed Cas chose Crowley over him. It was not possible, but the way Dean let his lips linger a second more than necessary said otherwise. 

They were just about to run the last scene of the show and Cas was waiting for his cue when it all came to a head. Gabriel was singing ‘The Show Must Go On’ with the ensemble while Cas was leaning on his heels in the corner of the stage for his part of the song to come in. Despite telling himself that it was fruitless and would only cause him more heartbreak, Cas kept looking at Dean in the wings. He looked tired, Cas noted. There were bags under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping well, and he kept looking at the ground instead of looking at Gabriel on stage. Cas was so distracted by Dean that when the lights flickered on him, he almost missed his cue by a beat and had to quickly catch up with his lines. 

_“Inside my heart is breaking, my makeup may be flaking...but my smile...still stays on…”_

_“The show must go on!”_ Gabriel bellowed before him, and Cas focused his eyes on the tech booth as he walked forward in quick, truncated movements. The girls from the ensemble danced around him as he moved and he could hear cranking as a new backdrop descended from the ceiling, a motif of modern day Arabia for their ‘Hindi Sad Diamonds’ number. Dressed in real crystals whose value could feed a village for years, Cas knew that he should of felt amazing in that moment. He was about to close out a production that he poured his heart and soul into. A line of judges from local companies to Broadway were sitting in front of him. This is what he always wanted, but Cas couldn’t get himself to feel anything other than empty. Without Dean sharing it with him, what was the point of it all?

He was thankful this part of the play required a lot of concentration. After he was done walking like a model with a broken foot, Cas was dragged off stage and was powdered in a puff of concealer to hide the redness that was rising from the sultry, warm theater while stagehands completed the quick change for his costume. 

“You look like a tomato,” Jess complained as she tried to cover up the latest blush. 

“I do not!” he countered back, but Jess just ignored him as the notes to ‘Hindi Sad Diamonds’ came on and he was shoved towards the top of the set’s stairs. 

“Don’t trip on that cape,” Jess teased with a wink as she ran away just in time for the curtain to open and the audience to gasp at Cas’s elaborate outfit. It was diamond encrusted and glittered hypnotically against the spotlights’ sensual, ivory hues. He felt a little ridiculous, but that was the least of his concerns. No, he was too focused on the crucial scene approaching, the one where Christian would call Satine a whore and run off. Even though they were in character, the way Dean delivered the line began to feel like a slap in the face this past week. He used to perform it just a bit over the top, enough that Cas could separate it from Dean himself. Now it was all cold tones and understated, delivered in a way that Cas couldn’t help but pick up on the double meaning. 

“Oh no. He will be killed!” Benny as Toulouse called out from stage right as the pivotal part of the play began. “That's it. That's why he's pushing him away, to save him. That's it, that's it. Christian!”

The spotlights whirled around until they landed on Cas again. He was playing with his fedora when Dean’s hand landed on his arm. 

“I’ve come to pay my bill!” Dean projected out into the audience. His expression was beyond harsh, lips a taut line while he had his arms crossed over his chest. 

Cas pushed past him and dodged the props on the ground, depicting a backstage area. “You shouldn't be here Christian. Just leave.” 

“No,” he replied, catching Cas’s arm once again. “You made me believe that you loved me. Why shouldn't I pay you?” 

He grimaced, eyes closed as he fought out of Dean’s grip and pushed past the line of curtains they had set up on the stage. "Please, Christian.” 

“But why not? You did your job so very, very well.” 

“Stop it!” Cas cried out again and shoved away from Dean’s grasp. “Just go away.” 

“Why can't I pay you like everyone else does? If it wasn't real, then why can't I pay you? Let me pay! Let me pay!” 

“No!” Cas roared, louder than he’d ever done in practice. The two of them toppled out of their “backstage” area and stumbled onto the main set of the play, where fold out chairs filled with the ensemble looked on with their best gaping faces. Benny, as Toulouse, gestured wildly from the sidelines at Aaron, who they brought on to play the assassin Meg’s Dutchess hires to take down Christian. The fake gun they purchased from a replicator in Belize looked close to real, and it took everything in Cas not to cringe at the relation it held to Crowley’s. 

Gabriel appraised them with a confused expression before gesturing out to the crowd. “I am not fooled! Though he has shaved off his beard and adopts a disguise, mine eyes do not lie. For it is he, the same penniless playwright!” 

There were loud intakes of breath from both the fake audience and the real one. Cas looked over at the fold out chairs like he was supposed to and locked gazes with Meg as the Duchess. She was acting perfectly, lips perused out while she mouthed ‘you’re mine’ at him. Like instructed during practice, Cas noticeably cringed and awaited Dean’s next line, the one that would tear him apart. 

Dean fished the painted, golden coins out of his pocket and threw them at Cas’s feet. He pulled his lips back into a line, then replied, “This man is yours now. I’ve paid my _whore_.” Dean practically spat the word. “I owe you nothing, and you are nothing to me. Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love.” 

And with that, Dean began his descent from the stage. His feet dragged as his boots clicked against the metal platform and eerily echoed throughout the room. 

As Cas helplessly watched Dean’s descending form, he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. That wasn’t Christian telling Satine goodbye; it was Dean telling him that he was finished with what they had, that they were through. It couldn’t be clearer, but Cas couldn’t let it go. With a trembling hand, Cas reached out for Dean and caught the edge of his pant leg. When Dean turned around, he tried to convey with his eyes that he was sorry, not just for Crowley but for dragging him into this mess in the first place. He tried to catch Dean’s gaze and make him see that if he could do it all again, he wouldn’t give into Crowley’s fear mongering like he did last week. Instead, he would get into the Impala and drive for miles. He’d kiss Dean at diners and watch him out of the corner of his eye and love him until the day he died. 

But it was too late for that, Cas knew, and Dean wasn’t a mind reader. 

“I’m sorry,” Cas cried out, just low enough so Dean could hear. 

He just shook his head at Cas. “I wish that was enough,” he muttered back, and then pulled away with a tug of his leg. 

Cas couldn’t hide the tears as they spilled over and fell onto his cheeks. This was it. He was losing the one good thing in his life, and he didn’t give a shit if anyone saw now. Let them see it for what it is. He wanted the whole world to know that he loved Dean. He just didn’t _care_ anymore. 

It all came to a breaking point when he looked over at Crowley’s face and saw him _laughing_. His cold, beady eyes were lit up with excitement as he watched Dean leave, and Rowena looked alight next to him, lips turned up into a wicked grin. 

Cas’s castmates watched him, waiting for his tenor to fill the room with the ‘Come What May’ acapella he was supposed to be singing by then, but Cas just watched Dean’s slowing form like a gaping fish instead. Was he really going to give his happiness up for a man who laughed at his agony? In a moment of complete clarity, Cas knew what he had to do. 

“ _It's always a rainy day without you,”_ Cas croaked out, voice cracking on each word. _“I'm a prisoner of love inside you. I'm falling apart all around you…”_

Dean froze in place and turned around. His eyes were glassy too, filled with tears Cas couldn’t fathom. Dean was so upset when Cas ended things. Was it possible...could he want to...could he even…

“ _My heart cries out to your heart, I'm lonely but you can save me,”_ Dean boasted as he cautiously moved forward. _“My hand reaches out for your hand, I'm cold but you light the fire in me.”_

The smile that rose on Cas’s face could light up the darkest of places. He too began carefully walking towards the stage’s edge, fingers outstretched towards Dean as he trekked forward. “ _My lips search for your lips, I'm hungry for your touch-_ ”

“ _There's so much left unspoken!_ ” Dean belted as he began running towards Cas on the stage. When Dean climbed the stairs and was inches from Cas’s face, Cas felt his heart piece itself back together once again. “ _And all I can do is surrender to the moment_ ,” Dean sang lowly as he reached up to lay a palm on Cas’s cheek. “J _ust...surrender._ ” 

And then Dean kissed him and it was like the world was on fire. Every cell in his body sang when Dean’s lips crashed against his and the audience went into an uproar of applause. The passion he was longing for rose once again like a phoenix out of the ashes, and Cas reached up to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder to steady himself from the intensity of it all. For a brief, wonderous moment in time, Cas forgot that there was an audience of onlookers before him, probably unaware that this wasn’t part of the play. 

But the moment barely lasted five seconds before everything began to shift around them. 

There were three things Cas noticed at once. The first was Rowena’s amused expression from her perch in the front row, clearly one of the people who thought they were acting. The next was Crowley, red faced and furious as he jumped up from his chair in anger and stalked forward. The third was Crowley’s hand, curled around the handle of his gun as he aimed it at Dean. 

“No,” Cas whispered when he realized what was going to happen. “You’re not taking him from me. Not again.” 

As Crowley pulled the trigger and the bullet flew through the air, Cas did the only thing he could do. He pushed Dean behind him and took the hit in his place. 

Everything fell into a slow dance after that, like moving through molasses. Cas recognized that he’d been shot, but he felt no pain. His body went into shock as he knees buckled and he crashed to the ground, blood staining the white shirt he was wearing crimson. He acknowledged it with a nod, but couldn’t get himself to care. Everything was going foggy around the edges, and a nice haze was beginning to cloud his thoughts, distracting him from the flurry of activity around him. He enjoyed it, if he was being honest. There was no room for sadness or pain or anything when all he could feel was a tingling sensation all over his body. 

The only crystal clear thing was Dean. Cas vaguely heard Dean’s voice calling out for everyone to step aside, and when Cas looked up his grass green eyes were panicked and his lip was trembling. 

“Cas, stay with me,” Dean muttered in low tones as he took Cas’s face between his palms. “We’re gonna get you help, alright? You’re gonna be fine.” 

“Dean…” he tried to say, but his voice was weak and it felt like cotton balls were shoved in his mouth. 

“Shh...don’t talk,” Dean pleaded. He brought his lips down and laid a tender kiss on Cas’s forehead. “Just stay with me.” 

He wanted to listen to Dean’s advice, but blackness was beginning to creep into the edges of his vision. When he glanced down at where Gabriel’s hands were pressed against his wound, he saw the amount of blood he’d already lost. A little was beginning to drip down onto the ground, and it was then that Cas faced the truth: he was dying. 

“Dean…” he muttered again, fingers coming up to weakly grab Dean’s hand. “I...I love-” 

“Shh, I know,” Dean crooned in a low voice, one hand holding Cas’s fingers while the other caressed his hair. “I love you too, Cas.” 

He nodded, but it was all he could do. The darkness was truly overtaking his vision then, and he knew that soon enough he’d be floating off and away, hopefully to a better place than the world he’d been living in. Maybe his father was right and there were angels out there, waiting to take his soul to a new place. He just hoped they’d be kind. 

When his eyes began to close shut, he heard Dean’s panicked voice over him. “Cas...Cas! Cas!” 

_It’s okay_ , he thought, but couldn’t say. _It’s all going to be okay._

Cas used the last of his power to look at Dean one final time. Dean’s eyes were glassy and rivulets of tears were beginning to cascade down his cheeks, dripping on Cas. And when he leaned down and laid a tender kiss against Cas’s lips, they tasted like saltwater and brine afterwards. 

“Please don’t leave,” Dean pleaded as he leaned his forehead against Cas’s. “Please just...stay.” 

Cas let his eyes flutter shut. “Goodbye, Dean,” he muttered under his breath. After that, it was too much. The blood loss, the pain that was beginning to finally show itself, the ache in his bones from the fall. With sirens in the background and Dean’s fingers in his, Cas fell into the darkness. 

The last thing he heard was Dean desperately calling out his name and one truncated, crushing wail.


	29. Chapter 29

As the crowds of people evacuated the building, Sam could only gape in confusion. What the hell had just happened? 

After the shot rang out and people realized it wasn’t a part of the production, they freaked. Screams flew around the room as a few frightened audience members charged for the door while the others just looked on with their mouths open, like fish. Benny crashed into Crowley when he began laughing and held him down until authorities arrived. The redheaded woman with him tried to run with the others, didn’t get far before the cops caught her, too. They were led away out of the theater while the police officers muttered about the charges and other details of their arrest, and by the time they were gone Cas had been wheeled out on a gurney with a distraught Dean following close behind. 

Was this all going on right under his nose? How did he never pick up on it? Dean and Cas weren’t just sleeping together, like he thought. They were in love with each other, sneaking around and trying to hide it from Crowley like...like..

_Oh. My. God. They became Christian and Satine. What. the. HELL._ Sam ran fingers through his hair. This was a lot of information to obtain at once, and all he wanted to do was go check in with Dean at the hospital, go home, and forget this experience ever happened. It was the least of his concerns at that time, but eventually Sam knew he’d need to find another way to get to grad school. There was no way his production would win now that there was a felony attached to it. 

“Excuse me, can I talk to you for a moment?” 

Sam swung around and blanched at who he found there. 

“You’re Victor Henriksen,” Sam blurted out as his eyes widened. “You’re _the_ Victor Henriksen!” 

Victor pulled him aside and hushed him. “You don’t have to be so loud about it.” 

Sam couldn’t help but gape openly at the world famous director. “Dude, you’ve directed _Wicked_ and _Les Miserables_ on Broadway. You’re up next to direct _Hamilton!_ Gosh, you’re a legend...so what are you doing talking to me?” 

Victor gestured to the stage as if it was obvious. “I came for the festival, of course. Lawrence is where I was born, after all. Every year I come here and check out what this town has to offer, and I was blown away by your production. A LGBT _Moulin Rouge!_ is incredibly creative. Good job, son,” he said as he knocked his hand against Sam’s arm. 

He couldn’t help it; he blushed a vermillion red and toed the ground. “That doesn’t answer the question,” he muttered, but Victor just laughed and tossed an arm around Sam. 

“Come with me, Mr. Winchester.” He pulled Sam along and smiled widely. “I think we’ve got a lot to discuss about your future.” 


	30. Chapter 30

Cold. Uncomfortable. Germy. White. Disgusting.

Dean listed off the adjectives of the hospital in his head as he tapped his fingers against his leg and paced back and forth in the waiting area. The exercise was the only thing keeping him from pestering Missouri, the receptionist who kept eyeing him like she knew something he didn’t, for the billionth time since he’d arrived four hours ago. Dean already learned the hard way that it took quite a lot to distract himself from the fact that Cas was in surgery and could possibly never come out of it.

Icy. Unwelcoming. Harsh. Bright. Plastic.

Was Cas in good hands? Dean wouldn’t know. When they arrived at the hospital and the emergency room workers rushed to Cas’s side, he didn’t get a word in before they were shoving Dean out into the waiting area and informing him that he’d only be able to get basic information when it came because he wasn’t family. Of course Dean tried to argue with the poor nurse who gave him the news, tried to tell her that he was Cas’s family, not a father who sold him into an arranged marriage or a mother who left him the day he was born, but she just shook her head and told him that rules were rules. Unless his last name was Novak, there would be little details on Cas for him to obtain.

Empty. Fast. Ugly. Rundown. Gross.

Dean couldn’t believe Cas took the bullet for him. That was what wrecked Dean the most. He was Crowley’s target and Cas took the fall, and for what? Did he really think that Dean could live without Cas anymore? The past week after their breakup had been ugly, ask Sam. He couldn’t look at anything blue without thinking of Cas’s eyes, or hear ‘One Year of Love’ on the radio without turning it off. Dean was one big, giant mess. Did Cas not get that? Did he not understand that without him, Dean was utterly useless?

Calamity. Crusty. Crass. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas.

“Any news?” Dean asked as he once again found himself leaning his elbows on Missouri’s desk.

She glared at him and knocked his arm with a wad of paper. “Get your elbows off my desk, Mr. Winchester.”

He backed away with his hands up. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You better be,” she snapped back, but there was no heat in it. After a minute of quiet, Dean thought she wasn’t going to answer him and he turned back towards the fold out, vinyl benches lined up against the wall where Sam and half the cast were seated, twiddling their thumbs as they too awaited any news.

“I’ll let you know if I find out anything,” Missouri’s voice called out to him, but it brought no comfort. Until he knew that Cas was alive and well, Dean would continue to worry and annoy Missouri to no end.

With nothing else to do while he waited, Dean continued to pace. He tried to not look at the concerned faces of his friends, but it was hard when all eyes were on him, tracing his every move.

Dean lost count of how many times he trudged the floor before fingers brushed against his palm. He looked down and found Sam glancing up at him, eyes wide and filled with concern.

“Please sit down before you wear a rut into the ground,” Sam pleaded. He patted the place next to him on the bench and with a sigh, Dean followed his brother’s request.

“Sorry,” Dean apologized.

“You don’t need to apologize for being afraid, Dean,” Sam whispered lowly. He paused for a minute before saying, “If Jess were in there, I would be doing the same thing.”

Dean didn’t reply to that. Maybe it was because he just didn’t have the energy, or maybe it was because he didn’t feel much like talking at that moment. Either way, he just wanted to sit in quiet until he knew something, anything about Cas.

Too bad Sam didn’t get the memo.

“How long…”

“How long what?” Dean muttered back.

“How long have you’ve been...uh...sleeping with Cas behind Crowley’s back?” Sam said quickly, blushing at the words.

Dean glared over at his brother and curled his lips down into a disgruntled line. “It was more than that, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes turned to the ground as he replied, “So tell me...what was it, then?”

He opened his lips to speak but no words came out. What he had with Cas was beyond explanation. It was sometimes a mystery even to himself. How could he even begin to talk about how much he loved Cas without telling Sam everything?

And that’s when it hit him. Crowley and Rowena were indisposed. Once the court found out about their shady business deals and other illegal activities, they’d be in jail for who knows how long. Dean didn’t have to lie about Cas anymore. He could tell the truth.

So that’s exactly what Dean did.

“Well, I guess it all began in an alley…”

And then he was telling Sam about the entire ordeal. He let the floodgates open as he described that first night at the Roadhouse where they fixed Cas’s wounds and drank whiskey. He talked about all the other times they spent together too, and even admitted to making out in the costume closet, to Sam’s chagrin. He let the absolute all powerful, consuming love he felt for Cas out in the open as others began to gather around and listen to his tale. At first it was just Anna and Jo, but eventually Gabriel slid in next to Jess on the bench, followed by Meg wandering over with Ruby close behind. Even Garth crawled over from his perch on the ground and sat cross legged as he looked up at Dean like it was story time in a kindergarten classroom. By the time Dean was finished, everyone in the cast knew the truth, once and for all.

Needless to say, everyone was speechless.

“Oh my god,” Anna whispered under her breath when it was all over. “I can’t believe Cas wouldn’t tell us about Crowley. What if we could’ve helped him get out?”

“Really, sister?” Gabriel snorted inelegantly next to her. “He was trying to keep us all safe, plus it doesn’t sound like Crowley’s the type you mess with easily. Guy’s a damn hero for putting up with that son of a bitch.”

“I just didn’t know Clarence had it in him,” Meg butted in with her turned up lips. “Always thought that kid was a monk or something like that.”

“Care to show a bit of sympathy, Meg?” Jo snapped from the ground, and that shut her up.

“Look, bottom line is that Cas maybe won’t make it out of this alive,” Benny interjected from his perch on the far end of the bench. “I...I think we should all take some time to think about that fact.”

Dean was grateful that Benny got the focus off of him, and nodded in his direction when the cast got up and scattered themselves around, leaving Dean alone.

Nobody said anything for quite a bit after that. The waiting room was noisy with beeping alarms and ringing phones, clicking heels and shuffling papers. Hours went by without news, and eventually a few of the cast members regretfully left the waiting area to head back home for the night. Dean told them to be safe as they left and promised he’d call if any information was released, but it didn’t do anything to stop the tears that were flowing down Anna’s cheeks, or uplift the concerned line Benny’s mouth was stuck in. By the time the mourning doves began to coo and the sun began to rise, only Sam and Jess were left with him in the waiting area.

“You guys should go home, get some rest,” Dean told them when he caught Jess yawning loudly next to Sam, head falling back against the wall.

“No, I don’t wanna leave him,” Jess muttered under her breath as her eyes began to close.

“Babe, you’re falling asleep. Maybe you should go home…” Sam began, but shut up the minute Jess stubbornly glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m not leaving until I get some damn news about my best friend,” Jess said coldly before her lower lip began to wobble. “I...I just need…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Sam muttered into her hair as she began to cry. “We’re all worried about him, but Cas isn’t weak. He’ll be fine.”

Jess quickly nodded into Sam’s chest before she turned around and let Sam tuck her under his chin. She wiped the runaway tears from her cheeks and curled her knees up into her chest, resting her head against them.

A quiet overcame them once again as a new rotation of workers arrived. Missouri got up from her desk and relinquished her place to another woman before grabbing her jacket from the closet and walking through the double doors that led to the waiting area. She looked at Dean and motioned for him to come over.

“You can’t tell anyone I’m doing this, but I’m gonna let you talk to the doctor,” she said in a low voice, eyes flying around the room to be sure no one was watching them.

Dean couldn’t hide the elated grin that flew to his face. “Are you for real? Missouri-”

“Ah, don’t you go thankin’ me, boy,” she shot back with narrowed eyes. “This is a one time thing, understand? And no one can know about it. If you tell a single soul about this, I’ll whoop your ass halfway to China.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear on it,” Dean replied.

Missouri let out a sigh she’d been holding in. “Alright, then. Let’s go back and see how your friend is.” She opened the doors and pushed Dean through them, glancing around like a caged animal the entire time. She began walking quickly, so fast that Dean was practically running to keep up.

“Where’s the fire?” Dean called when Missouri was a good fifteen feet ahead of him.

“Gotta go quickly, boy!” she called back. “Doctor’s got another operation in an hour and he’s late for scrub in already.”

Dean swore under his breath as Missouri actually began running down the pristinely clean hallways, gym shoes rubbing against the tile in an obnoxiously loud fashion. If she was trying to be inconspicuous, she wasn’t doing a good job of it.

He was grateful when she finally came to a stop outside of an empty doctor’s lounge. The inside only contained a few chairs and a microwave from the eighties, and a sign that read ‘NO ACCESS’ was plastered on the front door’s window.

“Nobody will find us here,” she muttered under her breath. “Doctor’s only got five minutes to talk, so make it quick.”

Dean couldn’t help it; he was so overcome by Missouri’s kindness that he pulled her into an awkward hug, arms wrapping around her body like a vice.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath.

Missouri sighed but didn’t push him away immediately. “Just don’t make a habit of it now if you’re gonna be around these parts,” she said lowly before extracting herself from Dean’s grip and backing off. “Now be quiet. Doctor Roché will be here any minute, now.”

The name made Dean perk up in confusion. It couldn’t be...could it?

“There he is,” Missouri said as a man in a low-cut v-neck came around the corner.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Dean complained when Balthazar came waltzing towards him with a smug smile on his face. “What are you doin’ here, asshole?”

Balthazar quirked his lips up at him. “I got a job transfer here a few months ago. I barely was put into surgery at my old one, and I missed the thrill of the profession. Lawrence Community offered a great pay raise and-”

“Oh, just tell the boy if Castiel is alive!” Missouri interrupted with an unamused glint in her eye.

Balthazar’s earlier grin faded into a lugubrious frown, lips pushed down into a line. “Yes,” he said, and Dean felt the air lighten around him for a tiny, too quick moment in time until Balthazar continued on. “He is alive, but he is not stable. The bullet entered at such an angle that it missed his heart by a centimeter, and his blood loss was great when he came to us. I did all that I could, but there is a chance he may not recover. I’m sorry.”

Dean felt like the world crashed around him at the words _may not recover_. What did he mean, may not recover? Cas had to get better. He had to.

“What are the odds?” Dean said in a monotone voice, eyes trained on the wall behind Balthazar’s head. He couldn’t get himself to look the man in the eye.

“Fifty-fifty, if I’m being generous,” Balthazar replied in a hushed whisper. “I’m sorry, I really am. I...I can see now that you love him a great deal, do you not?”

Dean could only nod as fresh tears filled his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was broken and shaky. “I...I can’t…” he began, but no words could come out of his mouth. Even talking about Cas being dead was too much.

Balthazar caught on to this and came forward. He lightly touched Dean’s elbow and guided him back down the hallway with Missouri following. “I wish I had better news, but do not give up hope yet, Dean. If there is one thing I learned about Castiel today, it is that he’s a fighter. Don’t count him out.”

Dean nodded in response as Missouri pushed ahead of them and opened the doors to the waiting area again. She tossed him a sad smile and patted him on the arm as he walked by, then turned back the way she came with Balthazar in tow. When the doors closed with an echoing clap, Dean just stood in place, unmoving. His mind was caught on the odds Balthazar laid out before him. _Fifty-fifty._ A literal coin flip between life and death. How could he live with those odds? How could he do anything but stare at that wall in front of him? He couldn’t, so Dean did the only thing he could do. He walked over to the bench, plopped down, and waited for more news.

His vigil lasted for hours. Eventually Sam and Jess left, citing a need for sleep and finals to take. Dean just nodded as they left and accepted the burger they brought him from the hospital cafeteria, but he didn’t eat it. Instead, he continued to stare at nothing as the same nurses, patients, and doctors passed him by, time and time again. He didn’t speak, or walk, or do anything besides stare a hole into the wall that first day. It was like Dean was in a comatose state himself, unable to do anything besides repeat the odds in his head, over and over again.

_Fifty-fifty. Fifty-fifty. Fifty-fifty._

When Missouri showed up for her shift that night, she didn’t look at all surprised to find Dean exactly where she left him. He was grateful when she didn’t bother him or ask questions, but instead just went about her work and checked in on him every once and a while to be sure he was still alive himself. The only time she talked was at the end of her shift. She disappeared into the back room again, just like she did the night before, and returned with a stack of papers in her hands.

“No news,” Missouri said as she stopped in front of Dean’s feet. “Boy’s the same as last night.”

He didn’t respond.

Missouri just grunted loudly as she took a seat next to him. “I’m not gonna let you stay here all alone, you hear? And when’s the last time you ate something, boy?”

Again, he remained quiet.

She knocked him upside the head, and only then did Dean turn towards her with an annoyed expression on his face. It went away as quickly as it came when he caught whiff of Missouri’s brewing anger.

“You can’t not eat,” she practically spat. “What’s Castiel gonna think when he wakes up and finds you half dead from exhaustion and starvation? You think he’ll be okay with that? Nu-uh. I ain’t lettin’ that happen.” She got up from her place and roughly grabbed his arm.

“Hey!” he croaked out, voice rough from a day of silence.

“We’re going to the cafeteria. It’s pancake day, and I expect you to eat every last bite. We ain’t leavin’ until you do, you hear?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean responded, half out of fear of the woman and half out of begrudging respect.

And that’s exactly what they did. Missouri was kind enough to buy them both meals of pancakes and eggs, and she watched as Dean chowed down. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until the food hit his ravenous stomach, and by the time all was said and done he was grateful that she made him eat.

After that, she let him go back to his vigil in the waiting room and sat by his side in silence until Sam came by. She gave him a quick squeeze on his knee before she got up and left, instructing Sam to be sure that Dean was taking care of himself, getting sleep and eating throughout the day, then walked out the doors and out of sight.

It became a routine of theirs. Sam would wait up with Dean until Missouri came in for her shift at the reception area, then would leave to get some sleep and check in with Jess. Missouri would eye him like a hawk the entire time she was working, check to see if there was any change in Cas’s coma state, then would drag his ass down to the cafeteria for whatever the daily special was when she got off. Sam would come back and Missouri would remind him to take care of Dean, then would leave until the night fell once again.

It went on like that for a week. The routine never changed, and Dean was grateful for a constant in the hospital’s ocean of chaos.

But one day the routine did not happen.

It was a Thursday when everything changed. Dean was waiting with Sam behind the receptionist desk for that day because Missouri was sick and tired of them taking up space in the waiting room. She set up a few fold-out chairs in the corner and told them they could stay if they didn’t cause a ruckus, which was easier said than done. At least in the waiting area Sam and Dean could talk to one another, but the desk was so filled with receptionists and nurses on phones that they couldn’t make a peep without being shushed like they were in a library or something like that. Dean was getting annoyed, and for the first time since the incident he actually considered going back to the apartment for a few hours. He was about to suggest the idea to Sam when a nurse came crashing through the receptionist doors with a frazzled look on her face.

“It’s Castiel Novak,” she said breathlessly. “His vital signs are rising. We think he’s waking up.”


	31. Chapter 31

Death was not nearly as painless as everyone made it out to be. Even though he could not see through the darkness around him, Cas could feel. Pain was everywhere, picking and prodding and poking. He wanted to cry out for help, for someone to take away the agony he felt, but nothing came out of his mouth. His words were gone, and all he was surrounded by was a threatening, obsidian blackness that felt like a vacuum.

 _Is anyone out there?_ He thought, but of course there was no response. There was not much of anything where he was, and for a brief, terrifying second he wondered if this was it. Would he be in this nothingness forever, doomed to float around in silence for all of eternity?

He was about to panic when a flash of white caught his attention in the corner of his vision. It was a pinprick, the size of a pigeonhole at best, but Cas felt himself drawn to it. It was bright and called out to him with a warm and comforting voice.

_Cas…_

He needed to get there, to the light. With all of his effort, Cas pushed through the darkness and fought with everything he had. The white hole began to grow the closer he got, the voice louder in his ears.

_Cas, come on. You can do it. Wake up._

He squinted in concentration as he pushed and pushed and pushed. The voice grew louder and the light brighter, and soon enough he was almost there.

_Cas...I need you, okay? C’mon. Come back to me._

And so he did.

With a gasp, Cas’s eyes flew open. At first he didn’t see much of anything but bright, brilliant white, but as his eyes adjusted and noises began to sound off in his ears, he realized that he wasn’t dead after all. He was in a hospital, and nurses and doctors fretted over him as they called out vital signs and other information related to him. But he ignored all of that when he looked to his left and found Dean gaping at him, mouth open wide and eyes filled with tears.

Dean reached out with one hand and and laid it against Cas’s knee. “...Cas?” he said tentatively.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas muttered in a crackling voice.

The smile that rose on Dean’s face was like looking a thousand galaxies, bright and beautiful and incredible all at once. He let out a choked back sob as he curled his fingers into Cas’s bedsheets and looked at the ground.

“Damn, it’s good to see you again,” he said under his breath.

Cas was going to respond back, tell Dean that it was good to see him too, but a nurse got in the way and shooed Dean to the side.

“We need to check on him before we can allow visitors,” she said sternly, throwing a grimace in Dean’s direction. “Missouri shouldn’t have let you in here, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean looked on at Cas before glaring at the nurse. “I’m not leavin’ him.”

“Sir-”

“Oh let him be, Hael,” Missouri said when she entered the room again. “He ain’t hurtin’ anyone by standing in a corner.”

The nurse, Hael, dared not argue after that. Instead she just read off more of Cas’s information while Missouri wrote it on on his chart, citing a need to change his bandages and his IV pack.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Hael said once the inspection was complete. “We almost lost you a couple of times over these past few days, but you’ve stabilized now. With therapy and lots of recovery time, you should be fine.” She curled her fingers around the rosary she wore. “It’s a miracle, if you ask me. I’ve never seen anyone fight that hard to live before.” Hael looked over at Dean with a shy smile on her face. “You must have very important people to live for.”

Cas curled his lips up into a grin. “Yes, I do.”

Hael nodded curtly at that and backed away from his bed. “The doctor will be in to see you soon. He’ll want to give you heavy pain medication, I would assume, so get your conversations out of the way now. The best way to heal is through sleep, after all.”

“Thank you, Hael,” Cas said, then watched her as she left the room and closed the door.

When they were alone, Cas felt himself avoiding Dean’s gaze. The kiss onstage was only a band-aid over the real wound they had yet to heal. Cas pushed Dean away. Did Dean realize now that it was all to keep him safe? Cas opened his mouth to tell him, beg for his forgiveness, but Dean brought a finger to his lips and hushed him.

“Shh, I know what you’re gonna say and I don’t wanna hear it. I know that all the crap about leaving me for Crowley was for my protection. I get that now. I...I’m just glad you’re alive, Cas. They wouldn’t tell me anything and then Balthazar said you could die and I couldn’t…”

“Dean,” Cas said quietly when Dean began to tear up above him. He reached forward and curled his fingers around Dean’s hand, trying not to pull on his IV too much in the process. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

“I see that now,” Dean acknowledged with a snort, but it did nothing to dispel the wetness in his eyes. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that I never wanna lose you again, Cas. I don’t want us to be apart.”

“Me neither,” Cas whispered as he glanced at the bedsheets. “But Crowley-”

“Is in jail, along with Rowena,” Dean chimed in.

Cas froze at that. “Excuse me?”

“After he shot you, authorities came and cuffed him. Got Rowena too before she could run off. I haven’t heard a lot, but Sam says they’re already finding a ton of illegal business deals and tax evasions. They aren’t gettin’ out anytime soon, I’d guess.”

Cas felt like the world lifted around him. He was free? Crowley was gone? It was too good to be true. He had to be dreaming.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cas caught sight of a day old newspaper on the edge of his bedside table. On the front page of the Lawrence Gazette, Crowley and Rowena’s faces were displayed with the words ‘Foreign Fugitives Caught at Theatre Festival’. It was all the proof Cas needed. For the first time since he was fifteen, Cas was free.

“They can’t hurt you anymore, Cas,” Dean muttered as he walked forward and brushed a piece of greasy, unwashed hair out of Cas’s face.

“They’re gone,” Cas parroted. “They’re really gone.”

“They’re gone,” Dean repeated back to him. He captured Cas’s hand with his and brought their fingers together in a vice. “It’s just us now, and I wanna be with you. If you will...uh...have me, that is.”

Dean looked uncertain, the way his eyes traced the patterns in Cas’s bedsheets instead of looking him in the eye. Did he think Cas would refuse?

“Of course,” Cas said. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean grinned down at him. “I love you too, Cas.”

Cas tried to push himself up, but pain laced through his ribcage at the movement. When he looked down, only then did he realize that there was a big pad of gauze over his chest.

“Uh yeah, that’ll take awhile to heal,” Dean said. “You better take it easy.”

Cas pouted and Dean laughed. He reached down to meet him at eye level, then left a warm, gentle kiss on his lips.

“We’ve got time now, Cas. No need to rush things anymore.”

And wasn’t that a concept? They didn’t need to hide anymore. Cas could kiss Dean in public without looking around the corner for Crowley. He could say “that’s my boyfriend” without any fear of being found out. He felt _free_.

That was, until reality kicked back in and pain laced through his entire body.

“Ouch,” Cas moaned when he tried to push himself up in his bed.

Dean reluctantly took a walk backwards. “I should call the Doc, let him knock you out some more.”

Cas felt his pulse jump. No, he couldn’t go back to that blackness. He needed to be with Dean, he wanted to stay awake.

“No,” he said resolutely. “I...I’m fine.”

“Bull, Cas. You can’t even twitch a finger without bein’ in pain.” He leaned down to Cas’s level again and left a featherlight kiss on his forehead. “I’m just going to the waiting room for a bit while they knock you out. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Cas bit his lip, but Dean smoothed it away with his thumb. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

“Okay,” Cas whispered, eyes catching on Dean’s back as he waltzed out of the room and caught Missouri by the arm. He tried to hear their quiet mumblings, but he was still groggy from the earlier dose of pain meds and already felt the tide of sleep overcoming him again.

He began to close his eyes when Missouri walked into the room and pushed a few buttons on the contraption holding his IV. “He’s a keeper, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Cas said through a yawn. “I do.”

He caught a glimpse of Missouri’s warm face before his eyes fluttered shut and the blackness took him once again.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next few days were filled with pain, pie, and green eyes.

After he was allowed to, Dean never left Cas’s side. When he woke up after Missouri knocked him out, Dean was there like he promised, reading his copy of _Catch 22_ while he fingered an edge of a page. He looked so peaceful there that Cas let himself fall back asleep, not wanting to interrupt the moment his guardian angel was having.

He didn’t know what day it was when he woke up next, but he was grateful to be out of the murky blackness when his eyes opened. The light was a much better setting, he noted, and awakening to Dean’s fingers drawing designs on his knuckles was a damn good way to start the day.

Doctors and nurses came in periodically, taking vital signs and changing his bandage. The wound was oozing and red, disgusting would be a good word, Cas thought. It was the final mark Crowley would ever lay on him, and he thanked his lucky stars that it seemed to be healing quite nicely and the surgery scars wouldn’t be too obvious once they changed from ugly plum to puckered white.

When they weren’t buzzing over Cas’s body and checking in on him, Dean kept him company in the hospital room, playing rounds of Cards Against Humanity and spoon feeding Cas pieces of the cafeteria’s rhubarb pie. After the first day of being fully coherent, Sam and Jess had been allowed to come visit too, and they fretted over Cas and scolded him for not coming forward about Crowley. But at the end of it all, they were just content he was alive and well, healing nicely and clearly happier than he’d ever been.

During the lulls where it was just him and Dean, they constantly discussed the future. Now that they were truly, completely out of Crowley’s control, they realized there was a lot of planning that needed to be done. Would Cas move in with Dean, now that Crowley’s apartment had been taken into custody? Where would they find room in the two bedroom shoebox that barely fit Sam and Dean? And possibly the biggest question of all, what were they going to do with their summer?

“I vote for finding a new apartment first and foremost,” Dean said one afternoon while he was chewing on a piece of Cas’s lemon bar. “Sam isn’t around ours that much anymore, but I don’t wanna live with my brother being able to walk in on us.”

“Are you assuming we’ll be having sex all the time?” Cas deadpanned as his eyes flicked to the TV above his bed.

Dean almost spat out what he was eating and his face turned red. “I...ah...that’s not what I meant, Cas.”

Cas grinned ferally and leaned his chin against his palm. “I certainly would not mind that,” he emphasized with a wink, and the hiss that rang through Dean’s lips was worth the wet blobs of lemon bar that were now on the blanket Jess brought for him.

“You’re the worst,” Dean groaned while he brought a napkin to his lips.

“You love me,” Cas shot back with a quirked grin.

“That I do,” he responded, “but you’re still a troublemaker, Novak.”

He hummed in response and let the pad of his thumb run over the raised edge of the bed rail.

“We could still take that road trip, you know. Explore a few places over the summer until we figure out what we want to do next,” Dean replied with a shrug.

“That road trip better include working,” Sam’s voice rang out as he walked into the room, Jess in tow behind him. The smile on his face was like looking into a thousand watt light bulb, and Jess’s was just as bright.

“Whoa, what are you talkin’ about, Sammy?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sam practically was glowing in front of them. “Okay, remember when I didn’t come to the hospital right away? That’s because back at the theater, Victor Henriksen was in the audience. He wants to take our production on tour!”

Cas gaped openly at Sam. Victor Henriksen was there? He was a Broadway star, a prized director. Theatre companies all over the world were fighting to get him on their projects. How did Cas not see him in the audience, and why was he bothering with a play that ended in disaster?

As if she could sense Cas’s confusion, Jess interjected, “He thinks this production has Broadway potential, guys. He’s already asked me to come on as an intern producer, and Sam to work under him. Isn’t that fabulous?”

“Yeah Jess, it really is amazing, but how does that affect us?” Dean asked.

Sam couldn’t contain the grin on his face. “He wants to take you and Cas along as the leads, along with anyone else who wants to tour this summer. He thinks you two are, and I quote, “the future of Broadway!”

Cas felt an array emotions run through him. Fear of not being good enough faded into elation that Victor, of all people, would want him to play Satine for thousands. If all went well, Cas could make headlines, plus Dean would get the long overdue respect he deserves from this industry. Also, he could only imagine how amazing Dean would feel when he made it big, thus proving Zachariah wrong.

“We have to do it!” Cas exclaimed with wide eyes.

Dean turned towards him with a disgruntled expression. “You’re not gonna be healed enough, Cas,” he said. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

“Already taken care of,” Jess said as she pulled a flyer out of her pocket. “Here. This is a letter of release from Cas’s surgeon. As long as a physical therapist comes along and Cas doesn’t do any aerial stunts, he can perform, no problem. We’ll bring Benny in to be his alternate on the days when he is resting.” She turned towards Dean and laid her hand on his arms. “You two are not missing out on this opportunity. I won't allow it.”

Dean’s lips turned up into that smile Cas loved. “I’ll do it if Cas does it,” he replied, and then all eyes in the room turned towards him.

Cas could only grin. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you for reading this little fic of mine and going on this little foray into an alternate world of Moulin Rouge. It has been an honor to write something like this, and I really hope that you liked the ride. I love reading comments from people, so if you want I would be thrilled to hear from anyone who read my fic and even remotely enjoyed it. You guys are fabulous readers, and thank you again for reading this little fic of mine. It truly means the world that you gave it a chance in the first place, and I can only wish that I brighten someone's day with my writing. If you ever want to talk, I'm also on Tumblr at padaleckhi too! Thanks again!
> 
> (Also this epilogue is based off a Rolling Stone article in format, if you were wondering where the idea came from or the like!)

**A NEW ERA BEGINS**

**CATCHING UP WITH THE AWARD WINNING CAST OF _MOULIN ROUGE: NEW YORK_**

**Reporting by Inias Angelo**

“Welcome to where the magic happens,” Dean Winchester teases with a wily grin. It’s a Thursday afternoon at the fascinating Cort Theatre, a remarkable gem east of Broadway’s more famous musical haunts with intricate ceilings and ruby red curtains so lavish they would make the Queen cry. It’s the home of the latest sensation to rock the Broadway boat after _Hamilton’s_ impressive debut, and has been filled with musical lovers, celebrities, and even the President herself on five occasions.

 _Moulin Rouge: New York_ (named to distinguish it from the original film) is award-winning producer Victor Henriksen’s latest hit, playing to sold out shows every night, eight times a week, and it’s no secret that the production is a box office success; recent reports show that in the first year alone, _Moulin Rouge: New York_ is set to overshadow Zachariah Adler’s production of _Wicked_ in ticket sales by a great margin, and possibly come up just short of this year’s _Hamilton_ ticket sales, which have not been contested in its seven year run. The musical is also the buzz of this year’s Tony Awards, with Best Actor in a Musical nominations going to the two leads, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester, while Megara Masters is predicted to take home the award for Best Supporting Actress in a Musical. Victor Henriksen, Jessica Moore, and Sam Winchester are also expected to get Tonys for production, lighting, and best musical.

It’s no secret that Dean Winchester is the energetic soul of this production, and it shows as we traverse the steps to the theatre’s outdoor balcony where the rest of the cast waits. His praise for his fellow actors falls off his lips like melted butter and his trademark green eyes light up when congratulated on his Tony nomination.

“It’s nothing, really,” is his brilliant response, cheeks turning as vermillion as the plaid shirt he’s wearing over a worn out white tee shirt. His jeans look newly bought, but his boots look like he’s been wearing them for years. It is a true reflection of who Dean is: someone who won’t let go of things easily, but can make room for freshness when the need comes.

Chiming laughter rings out as we open the door and step onto the Cort’s pavilion. The view of the city is gorgeous, a light pink beginning to touch the tips of the buildings as the sun sets behind the glass edifices of New York City. Dean throws his arms out when Jessica, Sam, and Castiel watch us enter, and the four pass hugs back and forth as I watch from the sidelines. The love between them is so potent that one would feel like they are intruding on a private moment, which would not be incorrect. The four are officially family as of last month; Dean and Sam Winchester are not only in-laws to Jessica Moore and Castiel Novak, but are also biological brothers and best friends who wrote, produced, and acted in this production for a theatre festival in 2016.

_**What was it like, working with people you are so close with?** _

**SW:** Frustrating at times, I will admit. When you’re working with friends it is a lot of fun, but also can cause strain when you disagree. There were times when Jess and I would be arguing over a line, or a song, and then wouldn’t talk for the rest of the day, but we worked through it. The bond we created during that production will never falter. Jess is more than my wife, Dean is more than my brother, and Cas is more than my brother in law. We’re family, even if we’re not blood.

The idea of family not ending in blood is the core of this musical. Before hitting the Broadway stage last year, the show first began as an unsuccessful touring group. The original cast performed for nearly empty theaters every night for months on end, but they were not about to give up.

_**Everyone knows that your success didn’t come right off the bat. How did you continue on?** _

**CN:** I think that Victor is the one who really pushed us to keep going when it seemed impossible. I remember when we performed for a high school in Dallas and were booed off the stage by the students. I never felt more crushed, but Victor took me aside and gave me the best advice. _If you let them knock you down, then they win. Get back up and prove them wrong._

And so they did, night after night. By the end of their first stint, the musical had gained an online following who used GoFundMe to fund another tour, and buzz sparked like wildfire. By the time they arrived in Chicago for their first performance of the new tour, they had sold out their venue and had people lining the streets waiting to see the cast.

_**We all know about your Chicago performance at the Renaissance Hotel. What did it feel like to meet fans for the first time?** _

**SW:** It was like we were the Beatles! Dean got out of our van and I swear, the din that rose could’ve broken the sound barrier. I don’t know how we were discovered, or why people liked us, but I wasn’t going to question it.

Their success came from social media. Rebecca Rosen, a fan of the production, posted a video of Castiel and Dean performing ‘Come What May’ at their last show in Boston from the original tour, which gained over a million hits on Youtube. The comments section turned into a cash mine as Rosen put up the GoFundMe page in August, thousands donating to bring the tour to their city. Her work paid off when Victor Henriksen announced the new tour on his Twitter page and personally thanked Rosen for her devotion to the show and cast. (She was later brought on as an intern before being dismissed for inappropriate behavior around the crew, Sam in particular.)

Many of the original cast members needed to return for Lawrence University’s fall classes and were not going back on tour, but a few forwent their college experiences to stay on as actors. One of those people was Megara Masters, a tough around the edges, assertive woman who portrays The Duchess with class and grace. After receiving praise for her role, she dropped out of college and joined the tour full time. If she receives the Tony it will all be worth it, she noted in an email. (Vocal rest prevented her from speaking with me personally.)

_**What about Meg? Your supporting actress is up for a Tony.** _

**JM:** We are so grateful that Meg joined us. I didn’t think that she would after the tour because she is not as close to the cast as others, but she pulled through and is performing amazingly every night. If she doesn’t win, I will have a word with whoever decided that.

The wind picks up and Sam keeps picking pieces of hair out of his face while Dean teases him from the balcony’s bench. After careful ribbing from the Winchesters, we discuss personal lives and balancing work. Jessica and Sam were married back in 2016, the two eloping in Vegas while they were performing, but Castiel and Dean tied the knot in a courthouse ceremony a few weeks back.

_**How’s married life?** _

**DW:** Terrible. Would you look at him? He’s hideous.

 **CN:** He’s worse. Have you woken up next to him? His breath is terrible.

 **JM:** Gross, aren’t they?

 _ **Why**_ Moulin Rouge?

 **SW:** _Moulin Rouge!_ is a classic that was perfect for a musical production. When Jess came to me with this competition for grad school, I knew I needed to put on this show, no question about it. Though now that I look back, I probably would’ve had a lot less stress if I did a production of _Rock of Ages_.

_**No one ever expected this musical to go anywhere. Who is responsible for you success up until now?** _

**DW:** Fans. It was a fan who got our name out in the open. It’s the fans who pushed for us to continue when things got rough. It’s fans who petitioned for us to have an off-Broadway show even when we thought it wasn’t worth our time. Without them, we would still be performing at malls in Utah.

_**Castiel and Dean, your run on the stage is up at the end of this year. What are you going to do next?** _

**CN:** I never officially finished college because of this production. I’d like to go back to Lawrence University and get my theatre degree.

 **DW:** Nerd.

 **CN:** Excuse me? Did you just call me a nerd?

 **DW:** Uh, yeah? I thought we were gonna go on vacation to Greece when this was all over?

 **CN:** I can do both, Dean.

 **DW:** And what about our, you know, _plans?_

 **CN:** If you’re referring to your vulgar ploy to have sex in all fifty states I hardly consider that a plan.

 **DW:** Are you writing all this down? Is this gonna be in the article? Leave this out or I’ll kick your ass, Angelo.

[Yeah, like a reporter leave this out. This is what we thrive for.]

_**Any last notes for our readers?** _

**DW:** If I ever wear sunglasses inside and blow off fans, please punch me in the face. I never want to forget where I came from, no matter how many times _Broadway Magazine_ interviews me.

 **JM:** Thank you for coming to our shows, listening to our cast recording, advocating for us on social media. Without you, none of this could have been possible.

 **SW:** I would encourage anyone who is reading this to not give up on their dreams, even if they seem improbable.

 **CN:** Even when it looks like you’re chained to a path, don’t just let things happen because you think you can’t change things. Fight back for what you want. I promise it will all work out for the better.

_**The End** _


End file.
